


Teenage Kicks

by Soupy_George



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First War with Voldemort, Humor, M/M, Period-Typical Sexism, Romance, War related Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 11:19:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 94,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soupy_George/pseuds/Soupy_George
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius Black has always been monumentally brave ... unless the circumstances combine Remus Lupin with phrases like, "I fancy the pants off you," then he's a bit of a chicken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1: I

**Author's Note:**

> This story is being posted in "parts" usually 3-4 chapters long and about 15k-25k words in length. The whole story will eventually cover from June '78 until June '96.  
> When I've finished posting a part I mark the story complete until I have time to return and work on it again. The parts normally end with a bit of closure so although the entire story isn't finished as a reader you won't be left hanging too much. 
> 
> I only clarify this to avoid frustration from readers who think they are reading a completed work and are annoyed to discover I tricked them with the 'complete' tag. :-P
> 
> Leave me some love,  
> Happy Reading! xx

' _It's like this,_ ' Sirius told his refection in the toilet mirror sternly, as the floor rattled beneath his feet. He just needed to nut up and tell Remus, because if he didn't, Sirius might go insane and _die_. Or, less dramatically, and more likely, mope about his flat eating chips and scowling for the foreseeable future.

If Sirius had pictured his final train journey from Hogwarts it would have been filled with farewell japery and laughter. Surrounded by his three best friends, and all the clamouring hangers-on, as well as Lily, (the Ginger Controller) who Sirius had to admit had grown on him in the last few months. This could be related to her constant presence at James's side wearing him down, or the fact that she had suddenly stopped bothering trying to get Sirius to behave, declaring him a lost cause. Of which he most certainly was, and proud.

But instead of games and jokes, teasing Pete and snickering with Remus while Lily bossed an ever-so-slightly hen-pecked James around, Sirius was alone, in the loo. Not because he was toileting, but because he was planning a clever and cunning ambush. Well, actually, maybe just _an_ ambush.

Pete was off chatting up the pudgy sweet-trolley girl, trying to get some free liquorice wands … or get his wand licked… Sirius hadn't really been listening. James and Remus were at some responsible-people's farewell meeting with the other prefects. But that would be over pretty soon and Sirius had a niggling need to talk to Remus alone.

He was hesitant about addressing the constant little nudge in his head that said Remus was quite fanciable. Not because it meant Sirius liked blokes, although that too had been somewhat of a surprise, but because he was Remus. And telling your mate that you thought he was a bit sexy, was normally quite a good way to ruin a friendship, or, get punched.

So, for the last eight months Sirius had been pushing his little crush aside, and until recently, shagging any girl that would let him. Because it was fun and he was eighteen, and not at all because he was in denial and completely arse-over-tit for one of his best friends. He just refused to ruin his last year of school by telling Remus how he felt and being shot down, and then having to sleep in the next bed from him every night. Not to mention James and Pete wouldn't be pleased to have their friends' out-of-sorts.

But now, school was done, they were grown-ups, or nearly. Sirius would be turning nineteen in November, and they had grown-up lives to live. Sirius, James and Peter would be attending their first full Order meeting the following night, it was both exciting and terrifying that war had arrived on their doorstep. Remus, though inducted into the Order like the rest of them wasn't going to the meeting, he was going to begin a special task for Dumbledore the very next day. A special task that only Remus was suited to, he was going to spy on the werewolves.

The likelihood of mortal combat with nasty bigoted bastards was the push that Sirius needed to wrangle his courage and say something to Remus.

The endless propaganda in the _Daily Prophet_ with its death count and horrific tales of torture and suffering had Sirius concerned that something horrible would happen and he'd be left regretting not having had the balls to tell him.

It wasn't a complete suicide mission, just a high risk one. Sirius had a suspicion that his feelings weren't entirely one-sided. Even he wasn't mad enough to be hiding in the pokey lavatory to spring an ambush on a probably jumpy werewolf just to prove a point.

But Remus, ever the master of understated affection, was very difficult to read. But he never questioned when Sirius sat a bit to close, or held eye contact for a few seconds longer than was necessary. In fact, he didn't even comment when he caught Sirius quite blatantly ogling him the previous Tuesday morning. Remus had been dashing about the dormitory in only a towel-skirt because he was late for his final N.E.W.T. exam. Something that was very unusual because Remus was normally quite modest and changed in the bathroom and also, he was never late to anything, let alone an _exam._

Sirius had been pleasantly surprised to discover that under the uniform of button down and cardigan Remus was quite built. Sirius found it strange that he had never noticed before, considering he saw Moony practically, or entirely nude after his transformation each month. But when he thought back to those mornings – through his black and white Padfoot-vision – all he ever remembered was cringing, battered Remus, hauling the blanket over him and shutting his eyes weakly to wait for the matron and her pain potions to arrive. Healthy, upright and exam-panicky Remus, hurrying around their sleeping quarters bare-chested and speckled with water from the shower was another story all together.

There was a sudden upswing in volume out in the corridor of the car, interrupting Sirius's preoccupation.

"Kissed her square on the cheek!" Sirius heard James's voice saying, "She was still shouting _Detention!_ as we were climbing into the carriages."

Riotous laughter followed this pronouncement and Sirius grinned to himself. The pink-faced Professor McGonagall trying to put him in detention for giving her a gentlemanly farewell, was something he would remember fondly for quite a while.

She'd been so flustered she'd forgotten that as a leaving seventh year he wouldn't be available to serve detention the following term. He wondered if Professor McGonagall had been feeling a bit nostalgic... it was also highly likely that "Detention" was just the default word that came out of her mouth whenever she saw him, after seven years of it being a requirement.

The laughter was still quite loud as Sirius slid the loo door open a crack and peered out, he was almost too late, amongst the passing students was Remus. Luckily he was on the nearest side of the corridor.

Sirius rolled the door wide enough to slip through and reached out to grab Remus's elbow. Dragging him back from the crowd who were now mostly distracted by James, who was doing a frighteningly accurate impression of McGonagall's flustered dressing-down.

"Hey! What the –" Remus yelped, stumbling as Sirius yanked at his arm, but then in a bout of overzealous good measure Sirius slapped his hand over Remus's mouth and pulled him into the toilet. He felt a painful pinching across his palm as he closed the door behind them, and jerked the appendage away from Remus.

"Ow! You bit me!" he exclaimed, almost disbelieving.

"You put your hand over my mouth," Remus said, eyeing him with indignant bewilderment. "What did you expect me to do?" He looked around, and the confused expression intensified. "Pads, um, we're in the loo."

"I know." Sirius said, inspecting his hand for punctures. There were none, but there was a little pink line running vertically up his palm. "I didn't want Prongs to know I was talking to you." He said looking at Remus guiltily.

Remus's forehead furrowed. "I think James may know we talk to each other," he said slowly, a lock of thick, floppy brown hair fell into his face as he tilted his head in consternation. The sun-bleached ends from the previous summer obscured one eye, Sirius wanted to brush it away but Remus shook his head and disarranged it, before he asked seriously, "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Sirius said edgily. His hands were fidgeting and he shoved them in his pockets to hide them. "No look, I wanted to talk to you about something without James knowing."

"Right," Remus said, still wary, "what?"

Sirius opened his mouth but nothing came out, he shut it again, and looked down at his boots for inspiration. Now that Remus was actually here in the tiny space, practically having to perch on the narrow sink behind him, Sirius was at a loss.

But the morbid reminder that this was possibly his last chance, and that some things were more important than feeling a bit self-conscious pushed him on. He met Remus's worried eyes and tried again, "You've got your thing for Dumbledore tomorrow," he started.

"I do," Remus agreed cautiously, "and you lot are going to the meeting at headquarters." He said as though he thought Sirius was feeling left out.

"Yeah, but, I mean," Sirius stumbled over the words, annoyed at himself. "I'm not – er, _we're_ not going to see you for a while are we?" he asked, the unsaid, ' _Because you might get eaten by other wolves or Avada Kedavera'd by Death Eaters,'_ was left hanging in the air between them.

"Probably not," Remus said, quietly pessimistic, "The wolves will be able to tell I've been living a good life as it is, they're not going to want to trust me, and so running off to have a pint with you lot won't help."

"Exactly," Sirius said, "and even though I'm a spectacular dueller, and extremely good at getting out of trouble," Remus raised an eyebrow, amused despite the depressing topic. Sirius's nerves made him sound flighty and urgent as he continued, "We are, you know, _at war_ , and anything could happen and I wanted to –"

There was a sudden thudding on the door at Sirius's back and someone said peevishly, "Are you nearly done in there?"

"No, bugger off!" Sirius called back, frustrated at the interruption.

"Pads," Remus said, before he could start rambling again, "are you having second thoughts? About the Order?"

"No, I just, I feel like I have to tell you just in case," he grimaced at the unavoidably dramatic sentence as he finished, "just in case, we don't ever see each other again."

But Remus's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Tell me what? What have you done?"

"No, it's not bad," Sirius said hastily, "well, I don't think so… remember that conversation we had about my, er, _turnover_ of lady friends?"

"You mean when l called you a whore?" Remus asked, quite obviously surprised at the sudden tangent in conversation.

"Yes, that one." Sirius said. Even though what Remus had actually said was ' _If you're going to behave like a whore could you at least start charging, so the rest of us may benefit from it too?'_ But the sentiment was the same. It had made Sirius realise that if he ever wanted to have a go at anything at all with Remus, shagging girls in the same room as him probably wasn't the best bet. "Well you might have noticed that I've been a paragon of virtue since then," Sirius drew a quick breath and before he lost his nerve he said, "and it's because of you.”

There was a horrible hopeful swooping in Sirius's belly as Remus smiled, but then he laughed quietly and said, "I'm glad that I finally got through to you, some of those girls…" he wrinkled his nose, "I'd rather lick the bathroom floor than their …" he shuddered instead of finishing and gave Sirius a weird tremulous smile. "Why didn't you want Prongs to know that?" Remus looked away quickly and started to manoeuvre his way passed Sirius as if he was leaving. "He was giving you shit this morning about your dry-spell, I think he's noticed you've turned over a new leaf."

Sirius panicked, he thought he'd been clear, "No, Rem, wait," he snagged Remus's wrist. "I mean it's because I don't want them anymore, I –" he gulped, and forced the last three words out, "I want you." It sounded blunt and demanding and fairly ridiculous but he'd said it now, he couldn't take it back.

Sirius didn't know what sort of reaction he had expected, but anything would surely be better than the dumbfounded vacantness he was presented with.

Eventually Remus blinked, then he looked down at Sirius's hand still circling his wrist. He frowned at it like it was a mildly interesting curio. "You're gay?" he asked, sounding bemused, but making no move to dislodge Sirius's grip.

Well _,_ Sirius thought, at least it wasn't, _'Get your hands off me you dirty queer,'_ but he supposed Remus would be too polite to say that, even if he did think it. Then he realised that Remus was looking at him again, the blank expression he wore gave no hint to his true feelings, and Sirius found himself staring at his lips. Lips he was sure were remarkably more noticeable than they had been five minutes ago. He cleared his throat nervously and said, "More like not as straight as I led people to believe?"

"Oh," Remus said, and he twisted his wrist to loosen Sirius's hand. Sirius was sure he was trying to yank it free. But then, as he pulled it away Sirius felt Remus's fingers twitch against his palm and, after a pause, they bravely laced through Sirius's. They were warm and slightly clammy, but there was nothing hesitant about it.

Sirius was still trying to figure out if it was an affirmation of reciprocal feelings or a consoling, _I'll still be your friend_ thing, when Remus tugged on his arm so that Sirius staggered forward half a step. Remus's free hand was suddenly tight on his shoulder and there were soft, but surprisingly sure lips against his own.

It was so unexpected that Sirius couldn't quite process what was happening, returned feelings or not, Remus J. Lupin just didn't go snogging blokes in the loo! Sirius's reaction was so delayed that Remus pulled back.

"You, tosser." he said, frowning heavily and jabbing at Sirius's shoulder in punctuation. His cheeks were coloured, and he was looking everywhere but Sirius's face as he fumbled for the door handle.

Finally Sirius's brain sorted itself out. He'd been right, Remus fancied him too, or at least thought he was worth a kiss, which was mad on so many levels.

"Sorry," Sirius managed, and he reached out to hold the door shut. "You surprised me." he said. Then he leaned in closer again, intent on fixing the situation. But Remus turned his face away, looking at their reflections in Sirius's pep-talk mirror, a wry little smile on his lips.

Remus's smile turned brittle in the refection – the smile of someone who was used to hiding their feelings. It made Sirius ache as he met Remus's eyes in the mirror.

It was odd to see the pair of them framed in the slightly bowed glass, standing so close, Remus's hand still held tight in his. It made it seem more real, and Sirius had to admit, more daunting. He wondered if others would be able to tell, their clasped hands were the only give-away, otherwise they just looked like two normal boys. There was barely an inch between their heights, but that was where the similarities ended. Sirius had darker hair but paler skin, and there was a shadow of stubble on his jaw but he still looked younger than Remus.

It wasn't that Remus's face was aged, but there was always something lingering about his eyes that made him look more than his eighteen years. Sirius couldn't help but notice the other contrasts between them, him in his brand new Hobgoblins t-shirt that the counter girl in _Gladrags_ had told him was "distressed," which was highly fashionable apparently – Sirius wondered if they were just trying to save money by recycling their worn-out clothes.

Remus was as contrary as it was possible to be to Sirius's overpriced brand-new tatty t-shirt. His cardigan spoke of impeccable tidiness, even though it had been darned at least twice that Sirius could see. The collared shirt he wore beneath it was pressed and neatly buttoned. It made Sirius want to rumple him.

"You are the most obtuse person on the planet." Remus muttered.

"I am?"

Remus nodded, "Yes. Did you really think I didn't have any idea?" he asked, "It's not normal for mates to fall asleep in each other's beds, or stare at each other in the shower, or–"

"But, you never said!" Sirius interrupted, realising that Remus never showered in front of anyone, so he must have meant that he was the one doing the staring. _Interesting_.

"Neither did you." Remus pointed out, "For the same reason I didn't I'm guessing?"

Sirius met his questioning gaze and said honestly, "In case I was wrong, I didn't want to fuck everything thing up, James and Pete…"

Remus nodded again and smiled a little sadly. "It's not like anything can happen anyway. So it's for the best, it would have just made everything weird."

"I know it's not the done thing, blokes and blokes," Sirius said quickly, not liking the direction this was heading, "but I'm sure James and Lily, Peter, they wouldn't care. It's not like it's anything–"

"No Pads," Remus said gently, "I mean I'm going to live with werewolves, it's the most helpful thing I can do, just like yours is helping bring down Death Eaters. Us being, what … _boyfriends_? That's not going to work." Sirius opened his mouth to disagree, but Remus squeezed his hand and he stayed quiet, "I might not see you til next summer, or longer even, I have no idea what it's going to be like." He looked hunched and a little frightened, and it hit Sirius that he probably hadn't talked to anyone except Dumbledore about what was in store for him with the wolves. Sirius wasn't even supposed to know.

"Moony," Sirius said, trying to sound reassuring. "You'll be fine, they've been living off scraps and sleeping rough for a long time, you might be a bit more polite," he pinched the thin wool of Remus's cardigan between his finger and thumb, "and own more cardi's, but if it comes to a fight, you'll have them," he squeezed Remus's arm. "You've gotten quite buff you know."

A reluctant grin pulled at the edge of Remus's mouth, "You're so daft." He pulled Sirius in for another kiss, which was wonderful and only slightly frightening. Firm warm lips and soft darting tongue had Sirius completely lost in the confined space. Remus was enthusiastic and surprisingly handsy. Sirius, who'd had only the vaguest plan of telling Remus how he felt in private, so that the others wouldn't know if it all went tits-up, was suddenly wondering if he dared explore the intriguing bulge that he could feel pressing into his leg as he pushed Remus against the wall, and deepened the kiss.

Before Sirius could get any further with such tantalising thoughts, there was a banging on the toilet door. Remus jolted and pushed Sirius back, but their hands stayed linked, and Sirius couldn't drag his eyes from the sight of a heavily breathing, slightly smirking Remus.

"Padfoot?" asked James's voice.

Sirius startled, _Bloody Prongs_.

Sirius looked at Remus, hoping he would know what to do, he seemed to read Sirius's mind because he shook his head and said in a whisper, "you dragged me in here, what's the plan?"

"Wing it?" Sirius shrugged, his heart was pounding in his chest, he didn't particularly want to come out on the sodding train surrounded by their school mates, but he was stuck, "What?" he called back.

"It is you! Damn it," James cursed.

"Ha!" Said a voice Sirius didn't recognise, "Told you Potter, pay up."

"Carmichael reckons you're shagging in there," James said, evidently wanting Sirius to deny it.

"Well I was until you lot interrupted," Sirius said, deciding that his reputation as ladies' man – _whore_ – was finally worth something. "Rude that, isn't it Moony?" he continued conversationally.

Remus closed his eyes and gave an exasperated little laugh, but he played along, "Yes Padfoot." He said gravely, "The height of social misconduct, interrupting two gents shagging in the lav."

There was a sudden burst of laughter from the other side of the door, and Sirius realised the wager between James and Carmichael was not a private one.

"Five galleons thanks Carmichael," chortled James, then slightly louder he said, "Hurry up you two, whatever scheming is going on needs to involve me."

Remus winced at Sirius. "Absolutely not," he said, and Sirius shook with silent laughter, then Remus's mouth was next to his ear and he felt the laughter drain away as Remus said, "I'm glad you told me, even if nothing can happen. It's good to know there's … someone." he broke off and hugged Sirius roughly, then dropped his hand to open the door.

There was whistling and hooting as Remus stepped out into the corridor, and Sirius heard him saying in a stage whisper to James, "I had to find out what all the fuss was about – the girls that have been through our dormitory in the last couple of years!"

James was laughing hysterically at what was obliviously a carefully crafted mischief cover-up. "Did he live up to expectations?"

Remus looked over his shoulder at Sirius, who was now receiving congratulatory pats on the back for another excellently executed marauder gag.

"Ruined me for all others," Remus said, to gales of hysterical laughter. But when he met Sirius's eyes the brittle little smile was back.


	2. Part 1: II

The task of removing the forlorn, slightly musty and oddly incense-y spectre from his flat was a home-for-the-holidays routine that always reminded Sirius of his Uncle Alphard, the flat’s previous owner. Because it had been shut up for months following Alphard’s death, while the other non-disowned Blacks fought over his estate, the job of opening windows and chasing away spiders always took Sirius back to the first time he’d had to do it. It had been a year ago that the property had finally been cleared to pass into Sirius’s possession.

But this, the third time Sirius had arrived home after being at Hogwarts for a term, seemed more empty than the others.  Not only was he reminded of his dead uncle, who had been the last remaining Black on speaking terms with the disinherited Sirius, but now the stuffy rooms and cobwebbed ceilings made him think of how very alone he was.

Sirius forced the final window open - the sliding wooden framed sash in his bedroom. From here he had the enviable second floor view of a car park for the surrounding buildings and three rarely emptied skips. Sirius’s flat was in Camden Town, bought in a rebellious fit of pique by Alphard in 1960. The point of the purchase was to live somewhere as flagrantly Muggle as possible, and therefore achieve the biggest metaphorical middle-finger he could to his oppressive, bigoted, and inbred parents – a sentiment Sirius both admired and aspired to.

There was no way Alphard could have foreseen how very anti-establishment (and therefore anti-Black) the area would become in the nearly twenty years that had passed though. Now, as the nineteen-seventies were drawing to a close, it was commonplace to see the footpaths filled with social outcasts of even Muggle society; heavily eyeliner’d girls – and boys – held together with safety pins and hairspray, their jeans tight and ripped and their expressions angry; the look that accompanied the latest sound in rock and roll.

No longer did Sirius hear catchy melodic guitars and songs about lost love as he passed the record store when he walked to the corner shop for milk and fags; instead, it was violently crashing drums and three chords on repeat, both seemingly warring with the front man’s barely discernable lyrics.

Sirius thought it was fucking brilliant.

But even the thought of his latest acquisition, the brand new, and recorded in London _It’s Alive_ –  the closest thing he’d ever get to hearing The Ramones live – blasting from his gramophone wasn’t enough to put a smile on Sirius’s face this early summer evening. He flopped on his bed, and then twisted about trying to wiggle his half-smoked deck of fags from his back pocket.

At this moment James would be settling Lily into her room at Potter House, separate from James’s of course, because Mrs Potter simply wouldn’t stand for premarital shenanigans. Lily was only there because her own parents were holidaying in Majorca for the summer; a holiday suggested by Lily and partially funded by the Potter’s to get the Evans’s away from the dangerously changing Wizarding world. It was frightening, but they were safe and Lily had the extremely devoted James to protect her. Though Sirius thought she would probably poke him in the eye if she heard him say she needed protecting.

Sirius lit his cigarette still lying flat on his back. He blew the resulting stream of smoke up towards the ceiling where it caught on the remaining cobwebs, making them sway in the bluish nicotine breeze.

Peter, Sirius thought, would be sitting at the table in his widowed mother’s farmhouse kitchen. There would be an old tin tea pot filled with hot chocolate and a tray of biscuits in front of him. Pete would be happily stuffing his face and trying to meet his Mum’s demands for tales of school – without getting himself into trouble by telling the truth.

Sirius took another drag on his smoke, balancing it carefully as not to let the ash topple onto his face. He frowned over at his nightstand, where his ashtray – an ornate cut-crystal one that had been Alphard’s – was sitting just out of reach. He summoned it with his wand and tapped his cigarette, wishing that he had someone to bring him hot chocolate by the teapot-full and make him biscuits. Thinking of things he wished he had, and hot chocolate, led him to thoughts of Remus, who valued chocolate for its medicinal purposes.

Remus would be packing. Sirius amused himself for a moment with the mental image of Remus in his childhood bedroom, with all his bits and bobs – Sirius had no idea what one packed when off to live with wolves – laid out in little piles all over his coverlet, probably ticking them off a list as he put them in his bag.

Sirius didn’t know if Mr. and Mrs. Lupin were aware of the dangerous assignment Remus had taken on; he doubted it, though. Remus much preferred to keep everyone as worry free as possible, which normally meant keeping things to himself whenever he could. This reminded Sirius of the thing they had both been keeping to themselves. The thing that he had finally had the guts to say, even though it filled Sirius with a kind of bitter regret to know that if he’d just bloody said something at Christmas then he and Remus could have had more than one and a half kisses – in the sodding _loo_ – before Remus was mauled by the pack or Sirius was blown to shreds, as was the most common cause of resignation from the Order of the Phoenix these days.

Because, for all the bravado, Sirius was well aware that he, James, or Pete might not make it til next weekend. Remus at least would get to the coming full moon. It struck Sirius suddenly that he would have no way of knowing whether Remus had made it through the moon – whether having to face a transformation without his usual company of rat, stag, and dog would make it even more harrowing. Would having other wolves around serve the same purpose? Probably not… his Animagus friends kept him calmer, playful, but the wolves… they would see strong, intelligent Remus as a massive threat to the status quo.

There was suddenly a loud rhythmic knock on the front door that jolted Sirius out of his semi-self-pitying torpor, and then a voice Sirius recognised immediately called, “Padfoot?”

For some reason James was visiting.

Sirius hauled himself to his feet feeling completely confused as to why James was here in London when he was supposed to at home playing happy families with Lily.

 _Perhaps it wasn’t James at all, but a trick,_ Sirius’s lonesome brain suggested. Half of Sirius’s family were Death Eaters, and he was the Bloodtraitor that shamed them, maybe they were taking advantage of his vulnerability now that he was away from Hogwarts....

“Prongs?” Sirius asked cautiously, once he had reached the front door, he loosened his wand from his sleeve as he spoke.

“Yeah mate,” James said, but then if he _was_ a polyjuiced-rellie looking for Black family revenge, he _would_ say _yeah mate_.

Sirius opened the door with his left hand, wand ready in his right; it wasn’t like he was afraid, just being careful.

He felt a little foolish for his vigilance when James’s eyes bugged behind his glasses at the sight of Sirius with his wand on him, and instead of backing away, James frowned thoughtfully and said, “You all right there Pads?” in a tone that plainly suggested concern for Sirius’s sanity.

“Yeah sorry, bit restless,” Sirius mumbled, stepping back to let him inside and stowing his wand since it was obviously James.

“That’s why I’m here,” said James. “You were bloody weird all the way back to Kings Cross – even _Pete_ noticed,” James said incredulously, as he led the way into the sitting room and made himself at home on the sofa. “Moony said you’re just a bit edgy with all the changes and stuff but if you ask me he was just as bad.”

“I’m not edgy,” Sirius said, feeling unduly annoyed that Remus and James were talking about him.

Sirius pulled out a new fag, lit it, and flopped onto the other end of the sofa. He sat forward to grab the end of his trunk, which was sitting open in the middle of the room, and hauled it closer to use as a foot-rest.

Sirius had only gotten as far as unpacking his record player and vinyl collection this afternoon, they were already in his bedroom, the records un-shrunk and the player re-charmed. He puffed his smoke for a moment while he tried to think of an explanation for his out-of-character grouch to give James. “Don’t you feel a bit weird knowing that school is over forever?” he said eventually, adding vaguely, “You know I’m terrible without structure…”

“Please,” James laughed. “You’re worried about your lack of productivity?” He reached out and pinched Sirius cigarette, took a drag and passed it back. “Try again,” he said as he blew out the smoke.

“Fine,” Sirius said, “lack of productivity and Moony.” he meant Remus’s impending co-habitation, and not – entirely – the niggling poke in his chest every time he thought of the toilets on the Hogwarts Express.

James hummed in agreement. “Fair enough,” he said, “I’ve sort of been trying not to think about it.”

 _Easy for him,_ Sirius thought, with Lily and family to distract James from all the nagging worries. Smoking and spider extermination were not nearly mentally taxing enough to keep Sirius occupied. “Same,” Sirius said anyway, because he didn’t want to raise James’s suspicions. “How’s Lily?” he asked, to change the subject.

“Worried, you know, bout her mum and dad,” James said, putting his feet up on the trunk and sitting back. “But Majorca is safe, that’s all that matters. I think her dad was more concerned that his little girl was moving in with me, to be honest.”

A real smile found its way onto Sirius’s face, “That’s only ‘cause he hasn’t met me.”

James grinned. “That’s true, like how Mrs. Lupin didn’t trust me at all until you came to stay that summer.”

Sirius laughed to himself as he remembered. The summer of their fourth year he’d convinced his parents that the Potters were a perfectly respectable – _pureblood –_ family, despite their differing opinions from the Noble and Most Bigoted House of Black. He’d also suggested that making alliances on all sides of the political spectrum was very advantageous.

Orion, Sirius’s father, apparently approved of the Slytherin spirit showing through in his rebellious Gryffindor of an heir, because he had allowed Sirius to go and stay for a few weeks at Potter House. The pair of boys had gone to visit the Lupin’s home for a couple of nights during Sirius’s time with the Potter’s.

James had been to visit Remus the previous summer and not made the best impression, being rather more energetic, accident prone, and ready to question parental wisdom than Mr. and Mrs. Lupin were used to. But they were yet to meet the tornado of tomfoolery that was Sirius Black.

Sirius, in insanely high mischief-making spirits due to his first ever holiday with his friends, had – by _accident_ – burnt down the upstairs bathroom while demonstrating the newest development in pyrotechnics from Dr. Filibuster:  wet-start fireworks. Mr. Lupin had been able to put it to rights as soon as he got home from work, but the three boys had spent an afternoon cleaning and schlepping like Muggles under the critical eye of Mrs. Lupin as punishment, and James was suddenly the lesser of two evils.

“It’s a bit serious when you say _moving in_ ,” Sirius said, frowning a little at James’s phrasing. “Isn’t Lily just staying for a while?”

James shrugged, stealing Sirius’s cigarette again. “Dunno,” he looked a little pink as he inhaled and then flicked the ash, not meeting Sirius’s eyes. “We’ll see. But she and Mum are playing some mad card game and drinking sherry, and Dad’s away getting the Evanses set up.” He paused and smiled broadly, and somewhat maniacally, “So I decided to come down to London and escort you and your grump to the pub.”

Sirius felt suddenly stupidly fond of his best friend. Not to mention dramatic for moping about his flat thinking that he was all alone, when _of course_ James had noticed that he was down on the train, and _of course_ he’d be here to cheer Sirius up when he needed him. It didn’t matter that Sirius couldn’t tell him the whole reason; the part that they shared – worry and fear of the future – was quite enough.

Ten minutes later Sirius had grabbed a handful of clothes from his trunk and was in his room shucking his Hobgoblins t-shirt for a plain one, as to blend in with the crowd at the pub down the street. Although, the Muggles would probably just think _The Hobgoblins_ were just some super-obscure punk band they weren’t underground enough to have heard of. He traded his comfy jeans for a pair that Remus had called “ludicrously pointless” because they were so tight Sirius had trouble bending to lace his boots when he first put them on, _and_ they had torn and tatty knees.  But they looked just like the ones he’d seen JJ Burnel wearing the previous summer, when he and James had gone to see the Stranglers at the Roundhouse - so Sirius thought them worth the hassle.

The pub, which was only five minutes’ walk away, took up the bottom corner of an old row of terraced houses, most of which were now converted into businesses. It was a little dingy and very smoky, but the interior was an improvement on the litter-strewn footpath. “Litter” being the most all-encompassing term to describe the four puddles of vomit, several smashed bottles and, disturbingly, one hypodermic needle Sirius had seen floating in the gutter on their brief walk from his flat to the pub.

Sirius loved the little corner pub. It was filled, as usual, with a seemingly random collection of patrons. There were overweight middle aged men in rolled-up shirtsleeves hunched on stools at the bar, girls with tall hair and multiple silver rings in their ears hovering by the jukebox, leather-vested shaved haired blokes snarling at each other over the billiards tables, and a good deal of run-of-the-mill rowdy Friday-nighters, their business shirts untucked and ties loosened, clinking their pints and laughing uproariously.

James and Sirius pushed their way through the crowd to the bar and collected two pints each – since happy hour was finishing in ten minutes – and found themselves a leaner near the billiards tables. When Sirius had first moved into Alphard’s, he and James had spent many evenings in this place. It was after all, quite easy to forge an I.D. when you had a wand. It was also easy to fleece the skinheads at pool when you could use a locomotion charm to direct the balls, which they did happily for a time. Unfortunately, because of their renowned skill, no one in the bar would play against them anymore; so Sirius and James were forced to drink for entertainment instead.

* * *

 

Sirius climbed the stairs to his flat several hours - and pints - later. He was not stumbling drunk, but the stairs did seem to require his constant attention for him to be able to ascend. James had left him around the corner at the alley they used for discreet apparition. Sirius hoped that Lily and Mrs. Potter were still in good spirits when James arrived, because James had certainly been in a merry mood.

Sirius was still watching his feet on the staircase when he reached the top stair and was surprised to hear a quiet and slightly hoarse voice from across the dim landing.

“Hello Padfoot.”

Sirius wobbled unsteadily for a moment as the sudden greeting took his focus from the steps to the figure sitting on the floor next to Sirius’s front door. It was Remus, a dog-eared book in his hands and a tiny hovering ball of light floating next to him to illuminate his pages.

“Moony?” Sirius said, his beer-slowed brain unable to find a reason for Remus to be _here_ when Sirius had spent the whole evening trying not to wallow in the fact that he was never going to see Remus again, because was going to be eaten by a hulking alpha-wolf in exactly thirteen days’ time. “What are you doing here?”

Remus got to his feet, tucking his book into his bag. His shoulders twitched in answer to Sirius’s question and he said haltingly, “I’m not really sure,  I just  couldn’t sit at home anymore.” He gave Sirius a confused little smile and shrugged again. “I thought you might want to hang out, or something.”

 _Or something_ echoed around in Sirius’s head. “I’ve been at the pub with James,” he said, trying to collect himself, because the drink was suggesting very many _or somethings_ in his ear. “Apparently I looked very depressed on the train, and he took it upon himself to cheer me up.”

“Yeah,” Remus said, “he told me he’d come check on you this evening, I should have known _‘check on’_ meant ‘ _get pissed with_ ’.” Remus grinned to take the sting out of his words. “I finished getting ready early, turns out you don’t need much stuff when you’re going undercover as a homeless person.” He shrugged for a third time. “So I thought I‘d stop by, stop myself going insane, say good-bye…” the _or something_ didn’t need to be said aloud again.

“Cup of tea, then?” Sirius asked, not sure why he wasn’t just jumping on Remus in the hallway, as his romantic track record would suggest as his usual reaction to such a situation. But it just didn’t seem right.

The answering smile on Remus’s face made him realise he’d said the right thing; but then, it was Remus. Good manners, especially from Sirius, always made him smile.


	3. Part 1: III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Shllybkwrm for the beta xx

 

Sirius was very glad that it was only the first night of the holidays as he led Remus inside. This meant that his usually messy flat was still tidy because all his mess was confined to his school trunk. Unfortunately, this was the same school trunk he’d left in its coffee table position from James’s visit, and forgot about as he crossed the dark sitting room to pull the cord that hung from the old-fashioned ceiling lamp. He barked his shin quite painfully when he collided with it mid-stride. Cursing his Muggle building and its out-of-date light fittings, he bent to rub at the injury.

“Have you had quite a few?” Remus asked from the doorway as the light flickered on. He was tugging off a pair of rather sturdy and muddy-looking boots. No doubt part of his down-on-his-luck werewolf disguise.

“Nah,” Sirius said, righting himself, and sending a disgruntled glare at the offending trunk. “I haven’t eaten much today, I’ll be good as gold after a cuppa.”

* * *

 

Although it was Sirius’s house Remus ended up making the tea, mainly because he was a finicky bastard about his tea and Sirius could never get it right when he was sober and concentrating, let alone when tipsy and distracted.

Distracted, or perhaps oddly observant, because he was noticing the most bizarre little things; Remus smelt very nice, Sirius thought as Remus breezed by him to get milk and mugs. Not like aftershave, but fresh and … _Remus-y_ , his partially boozy brain supplied helpfully. The sandy hair that fell into his eyes – grown for most of last term to help him blend in with the wolves – made Remus look a little messier than his normal groomed state, something that was very appealing in Sirius’s opinion. 

He was wearing his favourite cardi too. It was a thin dark blue one that Sirius and Peter had sewn leather elbow patches on one winter evening while James and Remus were at some sort of Prefect nonsense. Well, Pete had done the actual sewing.

It had been Sirius’s idea, because he and James teased Remus about being an old man trapped in an eighteen year-old’s body, and everyone knew that old men had leather patches on their cardigans elbows. But Sirius didn’t know how to operate something as complicated as a needle and thread so Pete had done the hard work.

James _had_ been a bit peeved that they’d procured the leather from his old Quidditch gear, but the joke was funny enough for him to deal with holey second-string shoulder-pads. What had made it even more entertaining was that Remus liked the haphazard additions, and kept wearing the cardigan, elbow patches and all.

“Tea and toast,” Remus said, placing a plate of jammy toast and a cup of scientifically-brewed tea in front of Sirius.

Sirius was sitting at one of two chairs that were crammed into the small dining table that stood in one corner of his little kitchen. Remus took the other and sat down with his own cup and piece of toast.

“So how was the pub?” Remus asked.

“Just the usual,” Sirius said. “Except I got hit on by the scariest girl I’ve ever seen in my life,” he added with a little laugh. “Had a ring in her nose! Like a pig – I thought she was going to deck me when I turned her down.”

“Oh,” said Remus noncommittally, as he took a sip of tea.

“That’s funny, Moony,” Sirius insisted. “She was terrifying and had no chance.”

“No chance?” Remus asked as he gave a weak chuckle, his eyebrow crooked up in suspicion.

“Shut up,” Sirius said, hating that Remus could make him feel guilty for his loose morals with only the twitch of an eyebrow and the slightest disbelieving inflection. “I told you today on the train – I’m not doing that anymore.”

“What, girls?” Remus didn’t look convinced.

“Or boys,” Sirius said emphatically. “No more whoring.”

“While that’s a good idea in principle,” Remus said, and his cynical smile had become much kinder, “You still have to live.”

“Well,” Sirius said in a conspiring whisper. “There is this one bloke.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Subtle,” he muttered.

“So then,” Sirius said almost sternly, ignoring Remus’s slight mocking tone. “I’m on the back foot here Remus, you kissed me today, _twice_ , and that was a bit unexpected.”

“Was it?” Remus asked sceptically. “You pulled me into the train loo, to tell me you _like_ me, and kissing wasn’t an outcome you’d considered?”

“Well no,” Sirius admitted. “To be honest, I was pretty much stuck on trying to say the bloody thing at all.”

Remus smiled. “You’re braver than me,” he said quietly, “and still it doesn’t really change anything, does it? I’m going away for as long as the wolves will tolerate me, and who knows how long that will be? There will be some who fancy a different voice, a different opinion. So even if I get kicked out, there might be some that follow, and then I still won’t be able to come back to normal life.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” Sirius asked feeling even more concerned for Remus’s safety than he had while drowning his sorrows at the pub. “ _You’re_ offering them another choice?”

“In a way,” Remus nodded. “Dumbledore is arranging food and medicine pickups for me, the pack tends to roam depending on the weather, so he’s going to find a way to leave them in unobtrusive places, he hopes, and it makes sense, that I’ll be able to gain their trust that way,” Remus looked at Sirius uncertainly. “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you…right?”

Sirius glanced down at his plate, feeling quite unnerved by this revelation. He’d thought Remus was going to live among the wolves to gain information for the Order, not stir up a sodding _revolution_.

Remus was still talking, and Sirius wasn’t sure if he actually wanted to know any more about this, but he thought that Remus probably needed someone to tell, so he didn’t interrupt. “Greyback is the current leader, from what Dumbledore says he’s very hard-line, thinks wolves should embrace their inner-animal, he’s a real nasty character by the sound of it.”

“Well, you wouldn’t expect the Alpha of the only proper pack in England to be a nice guy, would you?” Sirius said, hoping for nonchalant, but sounding rather jittery to his own ears.

“No, you wouldn’t,” Remus said seriously. “Hopefully I can help the ones that are suffering with him. As far as we know this Greyback is the reason there have been wolf attacks on Muggleborns lately. Dumbledore has information that Voldemort has promised him a wand if he meets a certain quota of savaged Muggleborns each moon.”

Sirius’s stomach turned at the idea. “Merlin, I always think we’ve heard the worst Voldemort is capable of, and then boom, something even more revolting crops up.”

“Yeah,” Remus said. “I’m certainly not looking forward to meeting Greyback.”

Sirius’s queasy feeling at the thought of slain innocents morphed into downright panic. What was Remus going to do? He might be violent while in his wolf form, but twenty eight days of the month Remus was, well, _Remus_. Was he going to strategically argue Greyback to death? Or perhaps convince the pack to hold a democratic election? Remus was a dead man.

“I need the loo,” Sirius said abruptly, pushing out his chair and standing up. He just needed a minute alone, Remus didn’t need to know how frightened Sirius was for him; he was probably quite worried enough without adding an overprotective, half-pickled friend.

Sirius stood at the bathroom sink and splashed a handful of water over his face; he watched the little droplets trek a path down his cheeks in the mirror-fronted cabinet on the wall. He still hadn’t shaved, Mrs. Potter would tell him he looked slovenly, Sirius wondered briefly if he was still invited to Sunday lunch now that Lily was staying there -had _moved in_ as James had said. Perhaps he’d not shave until then, just in case he was still expected to attend; Mrs. Potter liked to have something to fuss over.

“Hey Pads,” Remus’s voice called through the bathroom door. “Are you puking?”

“No,” Sirius called back, hurriedly drying his face, and thinking that if he _was_ sick, it would have been from the new and horrible fear he felt for Remus, and not anything at all to do with the beer.

He opened the door again, expecting to find Remus in the hallway but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Sirius poked his head out into the sitting room, from here he could see all the way to the kitchen, and unless Remus was hiding under the dining table he wasn’t in there either. “Moony?” Sirius said to the empty room in confusion.

“In here,” Remus replied, his voice came from the direction of Sirius’s bedroom. Sirius turned around and went back down the short hall.

Remus was sitting cross-legged on the floor of Sirius’s room, in front of the only thing Sirius had unpacked when he’d got home this afternoon: his record collection and gramophone.

“This is new,” Remus said, waving the yellow lettered sleeve of latest record from The Damned in Sirius’s direction as he set the needle.

“I don’t know that it will be your thing….” Sirius said hesitantly.

Remus shrugged as the racing pound of drums reverberated from the horn. “Since you subjected us to that screeching Boardman calls singing for the whole of last term, I’ve learnt to find music in almost any noise. This,” he said, smiling at the gramophone’s spinning record, “is remarkably easy.”

Sirius grinned, Remus looked so happy, contented even as his fingers tapped on his corduroy-covered knee. He’d brought a new cup of tea with him, Sirius noticed; it sat next to his bare toes, half underneath Sirius’s bed.

Sirius sat down on the floor beside Remus, resting his back against the foot of his bed. Wishing as he did so that he wasn’t wearing his fashionable but ridiculous jeans, because he couldn’t bend his knees without losing circulation to his feet. He ended up with his legs poking straight out in front of him like a small child.

Remus raised an eyebrow at Sirius’s ungraceful decent, and Sirius said doggedly, “I _know_ , they’re stupid.”

Remus chuckled to himself and leaned against the bed too, his leather elbow patch brushed Sirius’s arm as he said, “Yeah, they are. Sexy though.”

Sirius laughed in nervous surprise at the blunt flirtation. Bloody Remus, first he commandeers Sirius’s brave blurting of feelings on the train by snogging him completely out of the blue, and now he was using words like _sexy_. Sirius didn’t know what had gotten into him. Perhaps his impending assignment was spurring him on. Whatever it was, Sirius wasn’t complaining, just pondering.

Something tickled Sirius’s cheek and there was suddenly the warm weight of Remus’s head on his shoulder. “We’re doing the right thing … right?” Remus sighed ambiguously.

Sirius shrugged, not willing to say what he really thought, namely: _we’re not doing anything_.

“Getting involved I mean,” Remus continued. “Sometimes I think we’d be better off just moving to France.”

“Why, are they more liberal there?” Sirius asked, finding Remus’s tea-free hand and hanging onto it.

Remus gave a little amused huff. “I meant to get away from the war,” he said, squeezing Sirius’s hand. “Today on the train, I thought that’s why you didn’t want James to know, because you were having second thoughts too.”

“Oh right,” Sirius said, feeling embarrassed, “No, not about the Order, but I can understand why you might. I can’t believe Dumbledore would ask you to do something so dangerous.”

“Yeah well, I owe him don’t I? I’d probably have already joined the pack if Dumbledore hadn’t offered me a place at school,” Remus said bitterly. “It’s not like I can say ‘thanks for risking so much for me, but I won’t return the favour.’”

“ _Favour_ is a bit of an understatement.” Sirius muttered, not wanting to dwell on the harshness of Dumbledore’s decision. The Headmaster constantly intoned that they must trust each other, otherwise Voldemort would win. He also spoke of worth-while risk, of which Remus’s education was an excellent example – however, knowingly putting Remus’s life in jeopardy seemed shockingly cavalier of him to Sirius.

“I know,” Remus murmured, shifting against Sirius’s side, huddling in closer. “I have to meet him at six in the morning.”

“That early?” Sirius asked; it had been close to midnight when he’d got home. “Did you want to get some sleep?”

Remus shook his head, his hair caught in Sirius’s stubble. “Wouldn’t be able to.” He sat upright again, leaving Sirius’s shoulder feeling strangely bereft.

Sirius turned to see Remus watching him, his light brown eyes fixed and confusing mix of sorrow and yearning seemed to flit across his face. Sirius did the only thing he could think of, the only thing that seemed to fit, he leaned in and kissed him.

Remus wasn’t taken by surprise at all; in fact Sirius thought he might have been waiting for Sirius to do something. The moment their lips touched, Remus’s hand found its way up to card through Sirius’s hair and he kissed back so fervently that Sirius felt nearly overwhelmed – nearly, but mostly just turned on.

Although Sirius had been nursing his attraction to Remus for the better part of the last year, the looming obstacle of actually _telling_ Remus had stopped him from worrying about the logistics of what would happen after the fact. But now that he had overcome the first part, a whole new set of concerns had arisen.

Now, he was on his bedroom floor, in trousers that were far too tight, with Remus snogging him as though his life depended on it. The brilliant but unromantic Damned were hammering away in the background and all he could think was that Remus was his best friend, or one of them, and Sirius didn’t want to risk wrecking that by charging in cock first – like he normally would. And frankly, he only had the vaguest boys-club education on the mechanics of sex with a bloke anyway, and wasn’t sure what would be required of him.

“Pads?” Remus breathed very close to his ear. “I’m the one who’s supposed to over think things,” Sirius pulled back to see Remus smiling a little dazedly. “Will you just be yourself and go with it?”

Sirius let out a puff of laughter. “How’d you know?”

Remus shifted nearer, holding Sirius’s gaze. His pupils were wide and dark, contrasting with the light brown of his iris. He was so close Sirius could see flecks of gold in the rim of colour. “I’ve watched you kiss enough girls to know whether or not you’re into it.”

“Creepy,” Sirius chuckled.

Remus laughed softly too. “Yeah well, when you have a thing for your apparently-straight best mate, you have to take what you can get.”

“For how long?” Sirius asked suddenly, realising he didn’t know.

“Long enough,” Remus admitted. “Longer than you.”

Remus didn’t let Sirius reply to this revelation; he just tugged on his shirt and kissed him deeply.

Sirius wasn’t going to argue with him, the important friendship reasons to progress cautiously aside, he was really bloody happy that Remus was here, and obviously dealing with his nerves in a very Sirius-fashion. What sort of a terrible friend would Sirius be if he didn’t give Remus what he wanted?

This really wasn’t that different than his multiple encounters with girls, Sirius thought, as he felt the familiar build of excitement deep in his belly; not so far anyway. His pulse might have been racing a little faster, and Remus certainly kissed with more assertiveness than he’d experienced before, but mouth and hands were hardly gender specific.

It was only when Remus pulled back enough for Sirius to see his face, that it would kick in all over again, it was _Remus_. Remus who he’d watched for months, Remus who was tougher and smarter than anyone Sirius knew, Remus who was currently straddling Sirius’s knees, breathing heavily with his hair mussed and his lips swollen, and looking down at Sirius with an almost frighteningly greedy glint in his eyes.

The look on Remus’s face faltered as Sirius grinned; it changed to a wistful little smile in return, suddenly making him look much younger as Sirius reached out a hand to cup Remus’s jaw. He brushed his thumb over Remus’s lower lip, and Sirius told himself he wasn’t sentimental, or a _woman_ , for wanting to fix this picture in his head forever.

The moment broke as easily as it came and Remus moved forward, his hands sliding beneath Sirius t-shirt pulling it up and off over Sirius’s head. Sirius was trying to concentrate on Remus’s buttons, but struggled to remember how to work his fingers when Remus’s firm warm thigh pressed against his groin and moved in the most delicious way. He could feel the hard length of Remus’s prick nudging against his hip and belly as he shifted; it sent a spike of arousal jolting through him so strongly that he thought his stupidly tight jeans would tear with the pressure his cock was suddenly under.

Remus’s lips were at his throat, leaving a blazing trail in their wake as he made his way south, he sucked at the joint of Sirius’s shoulder and neck, and paused to flick his tongue over a nipple, all the while the subtly shifting friction of one strong thigh had Sirius feeling rather ravished. He finally managed to tug Remus’s shirt off, and found himself admiring Remus again. The strong regular pattern of muscle, not bulky but gloriously defined as he held his weight above Sirius. The irregular and unexpected slashes of silver scar tissue that crossed his torso were more proof of the strength and determination Remus held.

“God,” Remus groaned, as Sirius’s hands slid down his back to grip his arse and pull them closer together. “Sirius,” he panted, “this is …” he sat back on his heels suddenly, shirtless and debauched, his flies straining, Sirius knew he was in a similar state. Remus looked at him steadily for a moment, and then his eyes flitted down Sirius’s body, coming to rest on the apparently iron-stitched, bulging zip of his jeans.

“Rem,” Sirius said, his voice was lower and needier than he had expected. The one syllable was all Remus needed, he flicked the button open on Sirius’s jeans and the zip ran down all on its own. Sirius’s head dropped back and his eyes fell closed as he moaned in relief at the release in pressure. Then his breath hitched in pleasure as a slippery firm fingered hand wrapped around him.

“Mother of Merlin,” Sirius hissed, the slick friction was heaven, and then, something else, hot and smooth – Sirius opened his eyes to see Remus with both their cocks in hand, working them smoothly, faster and faster. Sirius reached his hand out and gripped Remus’s prick for the first time. It was warm, the skin was like silk, the head wet and leaking, and he whimpered when Sirius matched the pace.

Remus was captivated by the sight of their two hands and two cocks trapped, gliding and slipping against each other, as Sirius watched him Remus’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. Sirius twisted his hand, moving it more quickly; Remus drew a sharp breath in appreciation before he met Sirius's eyes once more.

Then without warning Remus seemed to be overcome, he grunted, “Fuck,” and fell forward to kiss Sirius fiercely, feverishly.

Their pricks were trapped between them and Sirius pulled his hand free to hold Remus to him as he rolled them over. He was hindered only slightly by the trousers around his knees. Sirius’s mouth found Remus’s throat as he rutted against him, the act aided by whatever it was that Remus’s hand had been coated in.

Remus was moaning in Sirius’s ear, his breath coming in irregular pants as the slide of Sirius’s cock against his own sent him over the edge. It was all it took; the heat and pressure of their bodies, the desperate way Remus’s fingers bit into Sirius’s shoulder and the quiet keening plea of, “ _God, yes_ , _Sirius,_ ” that was barely heard as his climax shuddered through him, had Sirius swiftly following into a vision-blurring orgasm.

They lay on the floor with trousers only half down and come cooling sickly between their stomachs for what felt like an eternity. But Sirius’s heart was still thumping rapidly, left over from the realisation that while Sirius had had a lot of fun with girls, there was definitely something missing if he could feel this bloody amazing after a quick frot on his bedroom floor. He thought perhaps that it was mainly because it was Remus, rather than the extra cock and lack of clunge. It was a bit scary, Sirius thought, to know one specific person could make you feel like that, especially one person who was about to be ravaged by ravenous wolves. He tightened his grip on Remus, burying his face in the skin at the crook of his neck.

Remus hummed contentedly, “I might be able to get some sleep after all.” he said, giving Sirius’s bare arse an affectionate pat.

Sirius was glad.

As they hauled themselves upright and spelled the sticky evidence away, there was a tiny little smile that never left Remus’s face. They climbed into bed and as Remus drifted off Sirius felt at ease for the first time since he’d left Hogwarts. He’d listened to the sound of Remus breathing in his sleep from the next bed over for the last seven years; it was the sound of home.

* * *

 

When Sirius woke there was daylight streaming through his half-closed curtains, and Remus was gone.


	4. Part 2: I

"Elvendork? Really Prongs?" Sirius shouted in mild disbelief. He had to shout because most of the volume in his voice was lost to the wind whipping at their faces and skinning their hands as they pelted across the sky.

"It's a real name!" James yelled back, "A unisex one too!" And even though his mouth was next to Sirius's ear, his voice sounded distant.

Sirius was really putting his bike through its paces tonight. ' _Close call_ ' seemed to be the word of the day.

The Order had been hearing rumours for weeks that Voldemort himself was conducting his war operations from a terraced house in the West End. Sirius actually had a vague memory of visiting it as a small boy; his father had been good friends with old Cyril Selwyn after all.

Sirius and James had been with a few others—Fenwick, Bones and one of the Prewetts—scoping the place out, trying to gauge whether or not it was Death Eater home base. But somehow they had been spotted and in an ironic information overload Death Eaters had come swarming out of the place.

Sirius and James had stuck together while the other three scattered, and this seemed to decide the Death Eaters on better odds of capture by chasing the pair. Thankfully, cardio was not the chasing group's strong suit, and Sirius and James, both still fit from Quidditch and endless escapes though long halls and up steep flights of Hogwarts stairs from Filch, had been able to out run them while dodging curses rather easily.

The two teenagers had reached Sirius's hidden motorbike with a good lead and kicked into the air and assumed safety. Unfortunately there were more Death Eaters on patrol in the air, ones who were remarkably more suited to a high-speed chase on their Silver Arrows.

There was a singed tear in the right shoulder of Sirius's leather jacket which was evidence of the close shave, and James was cradling his wand arm close to his body, his left hand gripping tight to Sirius for balance as they began to descend.

This was the second time they had tried to land, the first time a Muggle police patrol car had come hurtling out of nowhere. Its roof lights had been blearing like a beacon to any airborne Death Eaters who were still looking for the two Order members. In fact three of them had honed in on the disturbance. James'd broken the statute of secrecy rather badly by flinging the Muggle car flying up into the approaching Death Eaters way.

James and Sirius had thrown the Muggles off reasonably quickly after that, but now Sirius was beginning to worry. James was hurt, and his precious bike was groaning a little after the taxing afternoon. Countless magical enhancements didn't really fix the fact that his old girl was two years older than Sirius himself, a '57 Triumph Thunderbird, it was all crisscrossing wheel-spokes and shiny, oversized exhaust, and frankly, bloody beautiful in Sirius's opinion.

Sirius finally brought them down on the roof of a building in central London. The wind was still strong, and his bike sputtered as they hit the hard surface. Sirius directed them into the shelter of an enclave of air-conditioning units.

James clambered from the motorbike rather ungracefully, favouring his arm, and now that Sirius could see him properly he noticed his friend was limping too. James leaned heavily against one of the tall metal ducts.

"Bloody Rosier," he said angrily, clumsily trying to roll up the leg of his jeans to get a better look at his injured calf. There was a decent bit of blood staining the heavy blue fabric, and Sirius's concern grew. James was still grumbling as the narrow gash was revealed, but Sirius couldn't understand him, because he had his wand clamped between his teeth.

"Prongs Mate," Sirius said, "sit down, I'll sort it. You know what Dorcas will say if she finds out you've been trying to patch yourself up again."

James grimaced but slid to the concrete. "I wonder if the lecture would be shorter if I told her the only other option was you."

"Shut it." Sirius grinned. "I'm loads better now, had heaps of practice." The grin slid from his face as he realised how depressing that fact was.

It had been three months since they'd left school, three months of stake-outs and skirmishes. Three months that had taught him how to dress a wound without his wand and how to heal anything superficial with it. He could even mend small broken bones and set large ones. Being a member of the Order of the Phoenix was just as dangerous as Sirius had expected. And he and James weren't nearly as good at getting out of trouble as they were at finding it.

The cut to James's leg was deep but clean, the Death Eaters seemed to favour maiming injuries rather than fatal ones Sirius thought. Half the time it was like they were playing with the Order; a nasty cut here, a disfiguring burn there. Sirius didn't get why they weren't just shooting the killing curse after every single Order member whenever they got the chance. But he supposed that wasn't something he should complain about.

"Okay, hold still," Sirius said, touching the tip of his wand to the torn skin and murmuring the incantation. At once James's skin began to knit back together "See?" he said, "Piece of cake."

"Thanks," James said gratefully, stretching his leg out. "Shit that itches," he said as he inspected the pink slash that was left.

"What about your arm?" Sirius asked. James was wearing a t-shirt, but despite most of his arm being on display Sirius could see no physical evidence of the injury.

"I dunno," James said, "It feels like it's broken." He held it out gingerly for Sirius to look at. "I didn't recognise the spell that hit it- bright purple light, I nearly lost my wand."

Sirius shook his head. "That's too big for an Episkey," he said decisively, twitching his wand as he added, " _Ferula_." Bandages wound tightly up James's arm; a splint appeared as they did so to keep it rigid and reduce the pain. "We'll have to go to headquarters to get it fixed."

"We need to get there any way," James said, "Lily will be tearing her hair out; we're two hours late already."

"Right," Sirius said more abruptly than he'd meant to, tugging James upright by clasping his good hand. No matter the adrenaline from a decent chase and the worry for his friend racing though him, the mention of Lily made his insides twist bitterly. Sirius was so envious of James. More than he'd ever been, and he'd always nursed a tiny bit of jealousy for James's simple life: a happy home, parents that loved him, blah blah. But all that seemed petty compared to his relationship with Lily.

They were perfect—Lily and James—opposites and equals, and all that romantic shit that he and James had scoffed at for the previous six years of their life. The uncertain lifestyle they in the Order were living only served to highlight how having someone waiting (or fighting by your side as was more often the case with Lily and James), made you stronger, made you conscious of what you were fighting for - made you  _better_.

Who did Sirius have? Pete, he supposed, James - and by extension Lily - but it wasn't the same at all. He knew who he wanted to fight beside, wait for, come home to. But after ninety-four days with zero contact, not a whisper, not a sighting, nothing... It was hard to keep hoping.

For all Sirius knew, Remus was dead.

* * *

Pinfold Lane was a pretty place with ancient oaks and tall hedgerows that hid the houses from the road, and from each other. It was about as close as it was possible to get to London and still have a proper front lawn. The area was relatively unchanged since the houses were first built at the turn of the last century.

There was one house however with taller and thicker trees than the rest; they screened it from passing eyes. This house was the original one built on the land in the seventeen-nineties. That is, there used to be. The Muggles of Pinfold Lane hadn't caught a glimpse of number Forty Seven in three years.

Three years ago the owner of number Forty Seven, an eccentric elderly man by the name of Diggle who'd had a love of flamboyant hats, had died. It was rumoured the house had passed to his son.

The locals didn't think much of the younger Diggle's lacking gardening skills. He'd allowed the hedges to become so overgrown the property was completely invisible, strangely, even if one was curious enough to pause and try to peer through the greenery as they passed.

The other residents remembered how Forty Seven used to look; a modest home for its age, the front door opening straight onto the circular drive, with a reasonably large multi-paned window on each side of door - one that looked out from the drawing room and one the dining room. But heaven knew what young Diggle had done to it these days.

* * *

Lily Evans peered out the front window of Forty Seven Pinfold Lane; she knew it was a pointless exercise. She'd hear that monstrosity of a bike before she saw it, but that didn't stop her looking for an approaching single headlamp. She bit her thumbnail and took a deep breath; it wouldn't do to play the weak and waiting woman.

"Hey Lily?" called the familiar voice of Dorcas Meadows, "I could do with a hand in here."

Lily turned at once, hurrying into what had once been the dining room in the old Georgian house. Now it was a miniature hospital-cum-potions distillery. Three beds, all thankfully empty at this point, lined up on one wall, opposite them were cabinets full of potions and gauze. The large ornamental fireplace had been put to good use with cauldrons suspended close to the constantly burning flames, drying racks covered in herbs, and indiscriminate animal bits erected from the chimney piece.

Dorcas, a witch in her mid-twenties - who'd thrown in her healer's position at St Mungo's to come and join the Order fulltime a year ago - was leaning over a straight backed chair with padded arms. "Look Dearborn," she said sternly, "I'll never get them out if you don't sit still."

"Fucking ow!" whined the wizard who Dorcas was half-restraining.

"You called?" Lily said to announce herself.

"Lily, great," said Dorcas at once, "Could you pass me that dish and then come and hold this nancy's hand for me?" She tilted her head towards the nearest counter where a stainless steel dish sat, inside it was a frightening looking metal instrument rather like tweezers but much sharper and larger.

Lily gave the dish to Dorcas and then looked at the wizard she was pinning to the chair. He was bare from the waist up, and she only got a brief impression of broad muscled arms and shaggy blond hair before her gaze fell on his mangled shoulder. Sharp spines were poking out of his skin from pectoral to collar bone, like some sort of gruesome pincushion. Lily swallowed and looked back at his face.

His dark blue eyes flickered with pain briefly. "Hiya," he said, hitching his lips up into a grin that morphed into a wince almost at once. "Fuck Cas, that stings like a bitch," he complained as Dorcas attacked him with the maniacal tweezers.

"Can't he have pain potion or something?" Lily asked; that was normally the go-to the minute someone arrived injured.

Dorcas shook her head. Not looking away from her task, the tweezers were flashing as she worked as quickly as she could. "No, Dearborn here has rather unusual blood, it reacts with most potions."

"Unusual?" Lily repeated. The man didn't look out of the ordinary, he was quite decent looking, but she didn't see how blood could affect that.

Dearborn managed another smile in Lily's direction. "My ma had a nasty accident when she was pregnant with me, bit by a werewolf."

"Oh," Lily said, taken aback at the casual way he blurted this out. The only werewolf she knew was a very decent person, but he would never announce it to a stranger. "I'm sorry," she said, "I know lycanthropy is difficult to live with."

Dearborn shook his head. "Only ma got the symptoms – I'm something of a medical miracle, a carrier who can't pass it on because I don't transform. It's been pretty useless until this war came along–" he cut off abruptly as Dorcas pulled one of the sharp spines from the tender skin near his armpit. "Son of  _abitch_ ," he hissed.

"Sorry Mate," Dorcas said, sounding genuine for the first time. "You really shouldn't talk about your mum like that though."

Lily looked at Dorcas in surprise - the witch was usually pretty no nonsense, and didn't hesitate to cut mouthy wizards down when they needed it - but insulting someone's mum seemed a bit much.

Dearborn didn't seem bothered - on the contrary - he snickered, then caught Lily's eye. "Fifteen years of friendship and this is what I get? It's abuse."

Lily didn't really know what to say, she smiled weakly. "How did you get hurt?" she asked, nodding to his chest, there was fresh blood running from the puncture marks left by the spines Dorcas had already removed.

"I've been in the field for the last two weeks, roughing it a bit," he said vaguely. Lily knew better than to ask for specifics; Order members tended to give out the exact amount of information they were willing to, and no more. "It had all gone fine until I was breaking camp this morning and got on the wrong side of the local knarl population."

"Knarls?" said Lily. She remembered the shy little magical hedgehogs from magical creature's class at Hogwarts. "I didn't know they were aggressive."

Dearborn grinned ruefully. "I'd say most animals get aggressive when you accidently go about your morning ablutions directly over their nest."

"Bloody idiot." Dorcas snorted, but Lily thought she sounded fond more than anything.

It only took another five minutes for Dorcas to pull out the rest of the spines, and Dearborn only whinged a little more, he did swear violently when she swiped smoking purple liquid over the affected area though. But before long, Dearborn had tugged his t-shirt back on and was muttering about vindictive women as he sulked from the medi-room.

It was then that Lily heard the noise she'd been waiting for all evening, a distant rumbling splitting the suburban air.

* * *

Sirius and James trundled up the gravel drive to Headquarters in the dark. When the lit windows came into view Sirius waved his wand to get the little garage off to the side to open its double doors. He and James were on duty tonight, which meant sleeping over at Pinfold in case there was an emergency. Lily and her duty partner Marlene - a witch who had been a year ahead of them at Hogwarts - were also on duty. Sirius noticed that James and Lily's night duty often coincided. He wondered if Dumbledore did that on purpose.

Sirius parked his bike, squeezing it in next to Arabella's Mini; the shed had been built in the days when its main function had been housing gardening equipment – rather than motor vehicles. He helped James ease his way out, off balance as he was with a heavy bandaged arm in the narrow space.

They went through the squeaking garden gate and down the paved path at the side of the house, long tendrils of a creeping wisteria dangled down through the overhanging willow tree. They snagged at Sirius's hair as he walked beneath them. At the back of the house was a patch of unkempt lawn and a deep porch. The lawn was currently in danger of encroaching on the back steps and there was more of the wisteria on top of the porch roof, slowly claiming its way across. Sirius thought that soon the plant life would disguise the place completely.

He and James mounted the back steps, and Sirius withdrew his wand and performed the pattern of taps on the back door to prove he was an Order member. Pinfold was under a Fidelius Charm too, but as Mad-Eye intoned at every sodding meeting –  _constant vigilance_.

As it was close to eight in the evening, Headquarters was busy.

Most members worked day jobs – not having the luxury of inherited wealth like James and Sirius to fall back on. Most also had families, so more often than not Headquarters would be quiet until after dinner, when the children were in bed and the adults could check in on their double life.

The back door let into a high-ceilinged hall, there was a narrow staircase leading up to the bedrooms and the room Dumbledore used for one-on-one meetings. On one side of the hall was the kitchen, with its industrial-sized coal range for cooking and feeding twenty plus people when the need arose. Directly to Sirius's left, opposite the kitchen, was the parlour; a room filled with battered sofas and un-matched chairs. The walls were papered with posters of musical groups, and there were at least three dart boards absent of actual darts. There were large corkboards pinned with newspaper cuttings and ministry pamphlets. The occasional Death Eater wanted poster adorned the walls, with its occupant's eyeballs impaled by the misplaced darts, or an idiotic twirly moustache inked on its face.

Lily came hurrying out of the medi-room at the far end of the hall, obviously having heard them arrive. "Jamie," she said, her voice suffused with relief. When she reached them James pulled her into a one-armed hug.

"Sorry we're late," James said at once, "Everyone scattered and the Death Eaters decided to chase us two for some reason."

"Yeah, Benjy and Edgar told me," Lily said, cool and calm as ever. Sirius wondered how she did it sometimes - let her worry and fear break through for only a moment then reign it in completely - he found it very impressive.

Lily was looking at James's bandaged arm. "Is that bad?" she asked.

James shook his head. "Nope, just a break I think. Is Dorcas around?"

"Yeah she's in her room." Lily turned her collected expression on Sirius. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," Sirius said, feeling the same gnawing envy in his stomach as he watched the pair. James bent in to kiss Lily softly on the lips before heading down the hall in the direction Lily had come from.

"Good." Lily smiled softly, her gaze following James for a moment. Then suddenly she was all business again. "I was just about to put some stew on since there are a few people floating around tonight. Dumbledore is coming in later too."

Sirius nodded, his stomach growling at the mention of food. "That's good," he said, "I feel like I haven't seen him in a while."

"Same," Lily said and then out of nowhere a huge yawn cracked her jaw. "God sorry," she said, "I'm so bloody tired today."

"Slacker," Sirius said, determinedly trying to be more cheerful. "James and I have been running for our lives this evening, you've been sitting here knitting, should be us that's tired."

"Knitting?" Lily said, starting to laugh. She flicked Sirius's ear with a sharp fingernail and said, "I don't even know how to knit."

Sirius shrugged. "How am I meant to know what you women get up to while we're out fighting the war?"

Lily chuckled, turning towards the kitchen, saying over her shoulder as she went, "I dare you to say that when Dorcas is around."

Sirius laughed too. "Hell no. I like my face the way it is."

* * *

Sirius followed Lily into the kitchen. He was not particularly adept at cooking - having been fed by elves for his whole life until three months ago - but stew was pretty much just potion making, so he could help a bit.

He was cubing carrots at one of the long benches when James entered, his bandages had been removed, and he was grinning teasingly at Sirius's domestic servitude.

"Such talent," he said, picking up one of Sirius's tidy little carrot cubes, "and yet you still can't find yourself a man." He tossed the piece of carrot into his mouth and grinned broadly.

Sirius absently flipped him two fingers, shaking his head at the irony, if only James knew. "I pains me daily," he said seriously. "I fear I shall never find someone to defend my honour as Lily does yours."

James snorted and pinched more carrot. "She is a strong and noble champion," he added solemnly. "I pray that she will accept my favour."

" _Ridiculous flowery idiots_ ," Lily muttered as she passed from larder to cauldron, holding the skinned leg of a very unfortunate sheep suspiciously like a club. "James, get out of here, we're nearly done, and I don't want your potion's clumsiness rubbing off on Tweedle-Dum there."

"Tweedle  _what_ , excuse me?" Sirius asked, pointing a leafy bunch of celery at her in indignation.

" _Clumsiness_?" James said incredulously.

"Sorry dear." Lily smiled sweetly at James. "Would you prefer incompetence or ineptitude instead?"

James huffed. "Spiteful trollop."

Lily dropped the leg into the cauldron with a subtle lift of her shoulders, she didn't look at all sorry for insulting James.

Sirius supposed that since James was good at literally everything else, picking on him for being complete cauldron-exploding rubbish at potions was probably necessary to keep is easily inflated ego in check.

"Right," Lily said, washing her hands and drying them on a tea towel. "Are you all right to finish this off Sirius? Just chuck all those veggies in there." She nodded at the cauldron.

"Sure," Sirius said.

"Thanks," Lily said gratefully, crossing the room and winding an arm around James's middle. She leaned into him and said, "We're just going up stairs, to er …"

"Shag?" Sirius said, surprised when the intended light-hearted jibe came out sounding bitter. They didn't seem to notice. Lily turned pink, and James laughed as he pulled her from the room.

Sirius looked at the large clock above the fire, their nightshift didn't start 'til ten that evening, and it was only eight. Sirius wished he had someone to shag for an hour and a half. Or for twenty minutes … or five. Hell, right now he'd take a decent kiss.

Celibacy was not something Sirius was particularly good at. Since his first kiss at the age of fourteen he'd never gone this long without some form of romantic human contact. He sliced the celery viciously, trying to channel his aggravation brought on by sexual frustration (or perhaps just flat out loneliness) into the task. It didn't hold his attention for long.

Through the kitchen door and across the hall in the parlour, Sirius could see the rest of the party they had been out with that evening. Benjy Fenwick, Edgar Bones, and Gideon Prewett were all sitting close together talking with a good looking bloke Sirius didn't recognise. Sirius frowned; he thought he'd met all the Order members by now … new ones were always introduced at the meetings. He was sure he'd remember that face, strong jaw, defined cheekbones, tousled blond hair …Sirius felt a sudden jolt in his stomach when he realised he was checking the guy out.  _That's new_ , he thought in surprise.

Sirius had been wondering for a whole year now, since he first recognised his crush on Remus for what it was, if it was only Remus, if Sirius was straight, except for Remus. He'd not had the chance to really find out, because since they'd left school his only regular contact had been with James and Pete, and the wrinkly old codger who ran the corner shop down the street from Sirius's flat. None of which being likely to raise his interest. He was still staring into the parlour, his knife suspended over massacred celery when the unknown man lifted his head and noticed him watching.

The man's lips crooked up in a half smile at the attention, and he twitched his eyebrows and flicked his head slightly in a universal male greeting.

To Sirius's intense disquiet he felt a broader smile unfurl on his own face in response, swiftly followed by much warmer cheeks than the cool kitchen required. The man's grin grew.

Guilt bubbled in Sirius's stomach, and he hurriedly broke eye-contact. Fuck. What was he doing? Making eyes at a bloke across the room? A bloke who was likely just being friendly anyway. Sirius must be lonelier than he thought.  _It's only been three months_ , he intoned; he didn't need to start seeing flirtation where it didn't exist. Especially not with attractive, broad shouldered older Order members. That was just asking for humiliation.

Sirius scraped the celery into the cauldron, dumped the cutting board and knife in the sink and headed for the back door, pausing only to slosh some whiskey from the liquor cabinet in a glass. He put a cigarette to his lips as he shouldered open the door. He just needed to be alone.

Sirius wasn't sure how long he sat on the porch wall, long enough to smoke three cigarettes and not feel sick, so it was likely close to an hour. Consciously he knew he was acting like a sullen spoilt brat, but that didn't make it easier.

Sirius was used to getting what he wanted, and he'd never wanted anything like he wanted Remus to come back, but of course he couldn't. Sirius missed him so terribly, so continuously that the feeling of longing was always there nudging at him, taking the humour out of jokes, the rest from his sleep and the contenting warmth from his whiskey. The only time it was gone completely was during a fight - a duel with the Dark Lord's followers - it seemed only while he had to focus every particle of his brain on staying alive could he be free of the ache to have Remus there with him.

The creaking of the back door, and a sudden flood of light across the knee-high lawn interrupted Sirius's brooding. Sirius didn't move, the light hadn't reached him, hopefully whoever it was wouldn't even notice him sitting there.

"Black?"

 _No such luck_ , Sirius thought grumpily, sighing, he turned. It was the unknown guy who'd smiled at him from the parlour. Sirius felt a fresh rush of embarrassment at having been caught looking in the first place and turned away again. "I'm not on duty 'til ten thirty," he said dully.

"I'm not after you for work, Mate," the man said lightly. "I'm Caradoc," he added as he patted his jacket pockets, he produced a crushed looking pack of cigarettes from an internal pocket. He tapped one free and then raised his eyebrows at Sirius's half burnt smoke.

Sirius held it out to him, and Caradoc leaned in with his cigarette in his mouth and cupped his hands around the glowing end. The edges of each hand rested against Sirius's extended one, they were rough and warm. Caradoc puffed on his cigarette a few times, and the embers where it joined with Sirius's glowed bright in the dark. Sirius wondered why he didn't just use his wand.

"Cheers," Caradoc said, exhaling a stream of smoke and grinning at Sirius. "You're one of the new chaps aren't you? How're you finding it?"

"S'alright," Sirius said, not particularly wanting to make small talk, he just wanted to sulk with his fag in silence.

But Caradoc was not deterred by the cool reception. "You're friends with Potter, and the chubby lad, Petticoat?" he asked, tapping the ash from his smoke on the porch rail.

"Pettigrew," Sirius corrected, feeling the urge to smile at the error despite himself. Poor Pete. Sirius couldn't wait to call him Petticoat.

"Look Mate," Caradoc said seriously, lowering his voice and leaning in a bit closer. "I have a message for you."

Sirius looked at him in surprise. "From who?" he asked warily.

Caradoc took a moment to take a drag on his cigarette, he exhaled slowly, and said in a somewhat loaded voice, "One of our boys in the field." Sirius's heart began to thump. Caradoc was staring into his eyes, willing him to read more into the innocent sentence. "He says, he solemnly swears he's up to no good. He reckons that would mean something to you."

A broken little rush of air forced its way out of Sirius's mouth."Really?" he asked faintly.

Caradoc clapped a firm hand to Sirius's shoulder, and his voice became menacing, "Yeah, he said you'd know how to reply to that." Caradoc was watching him intently; his fingers were tight, almost biting into Sirius's shoulder, the smoke from his cigarette wafted into Sirius's face, making his eyes want to water. Then Sirius realised the wizard's other hand was hidden inside his jacket, no doubt holding a wand.

Suddenly Sirius felt threatened. "A-Ah," he stuttered, "Mischief managed?"

Caradoc relaxed at once. "Ace," he said, removing his hand but staying close. "I haven't talked to him much, I'm the delivery boy." He grinned his handsome smile, all traces of the intimidating persona completely evaporated as it lit his face, before he continued in an undertone. "Potions and food parcels, to keep him in the good books, you know?"

"Oh right," Sirius said, dumbfounded. "He's okay then?" Sirius tried to sound casual, but when he raised his cigarette to his lips there was no hiding his shaking hand.  _Remus_ , Sirius thought giddily.

"Seems it, he was waiting for me at the drop off point last week, it's a bit naughty of him but it's not like I'm going to tell Dumbledore." Caradoc took another long drag on his cigarette and looked around surreptitiously before speaking again. "Your mate's taking a pretty big risk for all of us, so bending a rule here and there isn't the end of the world in my opinion." His voice was so quiet that Sirius had to lean in nearer to hear him.

However at that moment the porch door banged open and both Caradoc and Sirius startled guiltily, moving away from each other hastily. Benjy Fenwick poked his head out, looking between the two suspiciously. "There you are, Dumbledore's waiting on your report Caradoc."

"Sure thing," Caradoc replied easily, he stubbed his smoke and tossed it onto the dark lawn then bent in close to Sirius's ear again to whisper, "Find me at The Snitch and Kneazle next Saturday night if you want to send anything back." Then he stepped back and said more loudly, "Nice to meet you Black, thanks for the light."

Sirius stared blankly. "Yeah no, no problem."

His brain seemed to have jammed—Remus was alive—alive and sending messages via fit, flirty field agents. And Sirius could  _reply_ , he wasn't going to spend the duration of Remus's assignment wondering if he was dead, or mutilated, or shagging some ruggedly sexy wolf-fellow. Sirius felt dazed, but the hot and cold tingle of relief surging through him had a true smile dawning on his face for the first time in weeks.

Realising he was staring vaguely into space with a burnt-out butt hanging limply between his fingers, Sirius belatedly flicked his fag onto the lawn and followed Benjy and Caradoc back inside. The pair had just started up the staircase, and as Sirius closed the back door quietly behind him he caught the tail end of their conversation.

"Christ Docy, he's fresh out of school!" Benjy was admonishing his friend half-heartedly.

"True." Caradoc laughed, but he shrugged his shoulders and said lightly, "Cute though."

Sirius froze; it was obvious they were talking about him. He was shocked more by the casualness of Caradoc's statement than the content. Sirius had barely come to terms with the fact that he was most definitely attracted to men in general, not just Remus - though obviously it was more than just attraction in Remus's case. Sirius couldn't even imagine telling James about it privately, James who he told  _everything_. And there was this Caradoc, calling him  _cute_  where anyone could hear. It was mind boggling.

"Padfoot! Where've you been?" James was suddenly present. "You right mate? You look a bit pale."

"Fine," Sirius said, shaking his concerns over his apparently lacking self-confidence aside to concentrate on the thing that actually mattered; Remus was okay, and had sought him out - not James or Pete - but him. Surely that must mean he still wanted …  _something_.

Sirius threw his arm around James's shoulders, and with sigh that was both from relief, and the new kindling of nerves in his belly at the idea of talking to Remus again, he said, "Prongs, I need a drink."


	5. Part 2: II

Upper Flagley in Yorkshire was a small village, but its pub was well-known in the wizarding world. The Snitch and Kneazle. On Saturday evening Sirius made his way up the village high street, turning down the lane that led to the famous pub.

Sirius neared the establishment's leaded windows, the place was brightly lit and obviously doing a roaring trade; he could hear music of the Celtic persuasion ringing out cheerfully over the riotous hum of voices. Despite the friendly ambience, Sirius was nervous. There would be plenty of wizards who knew him in there, and plenty still who knew Sirius Black without James Potter was something a bit out of the ordinary. He hoped it wouldn't get back to James. Sirius had resolved that he would keep his contact with Remus to himself until James got suspicious, then he would tell him. Sirius tried to convince himself that he would also tell James about the train ride back to London from school and all its night-spending implications, but he doubted he actually would.

Because, as it turned out, he was a much bigger chicken than he'd ever known.

There was also the fact that he wasn't supposed to be contacting Remus at all. Sirius had never been bothered by rule breaking in the past, but then no one's life had ever been at risk … other than Snape's that one time, but really, he didn't count. This wasn't school though, and cocking up Remus's cover would cost the Order valuable information, Sirius would probably get in a very large amount of trouble from Dumbledore (and the much more frightening Alastor Moody), and Remus would be outed as a spy to a pack of angry wolves. Not ideal. So Sirius thought it understandable that he was having second thoughts. But somehow he had reached the door to the Snitch and was pushing it open; he was not only a chicken, but selfish too it would seem.

Sirius spotted Caradoc with one quick scan of the busy taproom, he was sitting with a group of people who seemed to have been at the pub for quite some time, to judge by the collection of empties that had built up on their table. Sirius was uncertain whether to approach or not, this whole thing seemed a bit cloak and dagger to him, secret letters being passed to an undercover agent. He really didn't want to risk upsetting things.

But then, he supposed, this group of people wouldn't know that he was meeting Caradoc to pass him an illegal letter, they could just be friends, bumping into each other in a busy popular pub. With this in mind, Sirius hitched a smile on his face and started toward the table.

He was wondering how he should say hello‒ _Should I act surprised, pretend that the meeting wasn't arranged?_ ‒when Caradoc noticed him, the blond man stopped mid-sentence to smile at Sirius, getting to his feet at once.

"That's it for me chaps," he said, or at least that's what it looked like to Sirius, the din of the surrounding customers drowned out his voice. He drained the dregs from his pint and squeezed his way out from between the closely packed chairs.

Benjy Fenwick looked in Sirius's direction, rolling his eyes when he realised that's where Caradoc was heading. But he didn't appear to say anything to the others.

"Black," Caradoc said, when he reached him. He spoke loudly, but it was difficult to hear in the noisy room. Sirius leaned in nearer as he continued, "I hoped you'd come." His breath smelled of beer.

Sirius wondered how many of the empties belonged to Caradoc. But he nodded, not really sure on etiquette, especially if Caradoc was pissed and enjoying a night off with his mates. Did he just expect him to hand over his letter and leave again? Or were they going have a drink in order to lend to the pretense that they were just catching up so that anyone watching wouldn't think their behaviour odd? The wizarding rumour mill was a well-oiled machine after all.

"Let's grab a pint," Caradoc said, steering Sirius toward the bar, with a hand on his elbow, "Best act casual right?"

"Right," Sirius said, grateful that even when a bit tipsy, Caradoc still seemed to understand Sirius's awkwardness.

They pushed their way through to the bar, and were held up only briefly by a rotund middle-aged woman whose on display cleavage jiggled unpleasantly as the crush of patrons jostled her.

"'Scuse me love," she said in a thick local burr. She somehow managed to maneuver past them while holding two pints in each hand without spilling a drop.

"Merlin it's mad in here," Caradoc said, "I don't normally hang about this late on a Saturday night."

"You never gave me a time," Sirius replied, his tone apologetic, "Sorry, I didn't think it was late."

"Nah, it's not, just in here," Caradoc said, looking at the large ale sponsored clock behind the bar that told them it wasn't even eight yet and then gesturing to the locals, "The clientele seem to be aging."

Sirius looked around to see Caradoc was right. "I normally go out in London on a Saturday," he said, "try to find some live music, I always thought pubs were for Fridays."

A grin unfurled on Caradoc's face. "Lead on then," he said, "I'm in need of a decent night out."

* * *

Completely unwilling to be alone on the town with the flirty and unknown Caradoc, Sirius had dug his old mirror out of his pocket as soon as they'd left the Snitch and Kneazle. James had thankfully had his on him; their quick conversation led to James (and the ever-present Lily) collecting Peter and meeting Sirius and Caradoc at the partly refurbished James Cook Hotel, where there was a line-up of local bands playing.

The old brick walls made the thrumming guitars sound even more dirty in the repeating echo, and the place was packed with androgynous long hair and faded denim.

With drinks, a corner table and a few accumulated girls - brought along by Lily - Sirius thought that this night out was exactly what he needed. It disturbed him a little that when one of Lily's pretty friends had put her hand on his knee, Sirius had felt the need to tell her quietly that he was seeing someone. Honestly, what harm was a hand on his knee? James was currently half on top of him as he fought Sirius for his lighter and he didn't feel the need to protect his virtue from him.

"You don't even smoke!" Sirius laughed, holding the lighter out of reach, "Only mine, when you're bored!"

Sirius's hand was stretched as far back as it would go and James being slightly shorter, and slightly drunker, scrabbled at his wrist. "But it's amazing!" James wheedled, and he dug his fingertips sharply into Sirius's ribs.

"Ow! Have the bloody thing then," Sirius said, relinquishing his grip on the little orange device. It was only a disposable, but he hated being without it when in muggle London; it was difficult to light your fag with your wand when there were non-magic folk everywhere.

"Victory!" James exclaimed, holding the lighter protectively. He thumbed the little metal wheel a few times, making it spark before he smiled smugly at Sirius. "Muggle magic!" he said, waving his prize gloatingly.

Pete was laughing on James's other side, and Lily was watching with faint embarrassment from across the table.

"He's yours, is he?" Caradoc spoke up from Sirius's left, grinning at Lily's expression and tilting his head in James's direction.

"Mostly," she replied, as James blew a kiss to her before flicking the lighter far too close to Peter's hair. "I try to look at it positively," she continued in a long suffering voice, "With Jamie as a boyfriend I never need to have a baby, he's child and man all rolled into one."

"How economical," Caradoc said with a faux-serious little nod, just as the rancid smell of singed hair wafted over to them. Sirius could see Peter patting madly at his head.

"Yes, it really saves on space." Lily tittered.

A shriek and a giggle announced the return of Lily's wandering friends, they had been on a pack adventure to the loos. Sirius wasn't sure, but he thought there was one less than there had been, it turned out he was right. Beverly, the girls informed Lily, had been detained by a fit tattooed guy and was now necking near the facilities. Sirius got the impression that  _necking by the loos_  was something Beverly did quite often, because none of the others seemed all that scandalised.

"You have to come for a dance Lils!" the one who'd had her hand on Sirius's knee said.

 _Jenny? Janis?_  Sirius couldn't remember now, but whichever, she was lovely to look at. She had very long, poker straight blonde hair that fanned out as she turned her head in the direction of the dance floor. The current band were quite lively, and pretty decent Sirius thought, doing a cover of his favourite Beatles song –  _Twist and Shout_.

Lily was dragged off toward the stage by her friends, she gave the boys a little wave before the crowd swallowed her up. But her bright auburn hair was easy to spot through the mass of bodies, even in the half lit and smoke filled room. Sirius's short fingernails drummed along with the up-beat song, they tinked quietly on his half empty beer bottle. James and Peter were now scouring the area for things to set a light; the battered old metal ashtray that had sat in the middle of the table was now a tiny bonfire of coasters, napkins and an empty cigarette packet.

Sirius held a new smoke out and lit it in the flames, James didn't even notice because Pete had just had the brilliant idea of adding the straw from Lily's rum and coke to the minuscule inferno. The alcohol soaked plastic sparked and melted, and James was mesmerised.

"How's your week been?" Caradoc asked as Sirius snickered at his childish friends and sat back comfortably against the padded booth.

"Fine," Sirius said, "Not a lot going on, been on reconnaissance every night, it's boring as shit to tell you the truth."

"I hear you." Caradoc agreed, his own beer was barely touched. He took a tiny sip and said, "This courier gig is mad, you know, it's crazy busy, and semi dangerous for two or three days at a time, and then dead boring for the rest of the week because I can't help on anything else in case I get hurt or held up, because then our boy will be left hanging."

"What do you actually do?" Sirius asked, he'd been wondering all week long how the message delivery thing worked.

Caradoc smiled easily. "I just have to track them, from the last drop off point, to where they are now, then find the place Remus has chosen for pick up."

"Are you especially good at tracking or something?" Sirius asked. Magical tracking wasn't something you learnt at Hogwarts, and he got the feeling that magically tracking wolves would be a little difficult; since so many of them didn't even have wands, there was little magic to track. "Is that why you were asked to do it?"

"Sort of, I suppose I am good at it, it was just an interest of mine as a kid, me and Cas, we used to spend hours in the forest, our dads are both rangers at Snowdonia, taught us loads about tracking. So I learned a lot then, but the real reason it's me is that they don't notice my presence. Any human scent would be picked up on at once."

"Oh," Sirius said, "you  _actually_  track them, like muggle Indians?" Sirius had read enough westerns to know about the Native Americans and their skills in finding even the most well hidden cowboy. "I didn't know people did that here." He associated tracking with dusty ochre prairies, or massive sprawling redwood forests that were more ancient than legends, not the damp, green, mossy hollows you would come across in Britain.

"Course," Caradoc said, "Remus sometimes knows what the planned direction is, but really, there's close to thirty of them, a party that size moving through the forest is pretty easy to follow if you know what to look for."

"Lily mentioned your unique genetics, is that what you meant by human scent?" Sirius asked, mainly to distract himself from the sudden and unexpected cold constriction in his chest at the mention of Remus's predicament. "Sorry," he tacked on, uncomfortably, realising how blunt it had sounded. "That's not a secret right?"

"Nah, not anymore." Caradoc smiled again. "I'm not ashamed or anything, and now that it's finally useful, I'm kind of proud."

"But why don't they notice you?" Sirius asked.

"Apparently I smell like a dog," Caradoc laughed. "To other dogs thankfully, not people. Never really meant anything before this war, just that I liked rare steak a bit too much, but now it means I can get much closer to the pack without tipping them off. It also means that whatever I carry to drop off doesn't reek of humans. That makes it easier for Remus to hide it."

At the mention of dropping off things for Remus, Sirius remembered the whole reason they were here tonight. "Here," Sirius said, fishing the folded up, charmed-closed letter from his jacket pocket, he passed it to Caradoc beneath the table. Caradoc's fingers closed around it, and Sirius saw him tuck it safely into his own jacket.

"Did I just hear you say you smell like a dog?" a very drunk and devoid of flammable objects James interrupted, "because Sirius  _looooooves_  dogs, don't you Padfoot?"

"Yes," Sirius said through his teeth. "Almost as much as I enjoy nice fresh venison," he added, kicking James under the table.

Caradoc laughed and gulped back a few mouthfuls of beer. "You two are nuts. I better head off, duty tomorrow night, then out in the field again on Tuesday."

As Caradoc shuffled out from the booth Sirius stopped him with a hand on his forearm. "Thanks," he said ardently, sounding far too grateful for someone's company - but this little thing really meant so much to him - he struggled to act casually. To his left, James was watching them with a small frown on his pickled face.

Caradoc obviously got the message, his roguishly quirked-up lips turned sober for a moment, and he said: "Anytime Black. Anytime."

* * *

 _30_ _th_ _October '78_

_Moony,_

_We miss you! I say we, even though Prongs and Wormy have no clue that I'm writing to you. I didn't know what the rules were there, so I decided to keep it to myself. But I know they miss you too._

_On the news front, Prongs and his doe are as repulsively happy as ever. They're even looking for a flat together! I don't think Prongs's mum knows about that though, she won't even let them share a room, let alone a house. Wormy's mum has taken ill, he's been in and out of St Mungo's with her quite a bit lately. But it looks like she's on the mend._

_In general things are pretty dull here, I feel like I've be on lookout duty every night for my entire life. I never knew fighting evil would involve so much crouching in wet grass, staring at a hedge trying not to fall asleep._

_There have been a few exciting moments, but I reckon it's safer not to give out too much information for now. All I can really say is that I wish you were here, honestly, Prongs has no appreciation for proper muggle music. We were at the pub on Wednesday and he was enthusiastically singing along to Night Fever. Disco! Fucking DISCO. I love him and all that shit but hell, I need you for my sanity Moony. Please come home soon._

_Padfoot_

* * *

_First week of November – sorry, it's a bit hard to be sure of the date._

_Padfoot,_

_I miss you idiots as well. I wish I could say I was bored, that things were relaxed enough for boredom to occur, but they're not. Always on edge this lot, they don't trust anyone, even the ones that have known each other for years, they still don't let their guard down. It's exhausting to tell you the truth._

_I seem to be fitting in okay, it's different than I expected. There are young ones here too, they've never been to school or at least left before they could learn more than the basics, Docy snuck me a few books a while back so I've been helping them with reading. Shut up, I bet you're laughing! I can hear you in my head, you and Prongs both, "Only Moony could find homework while undercover!"_

_I hope Caradoc wasn't too hard on you when he told you about this, he wasn't very keen on the idea to begin with but I convinced him. I was going mad – I'm so sorry I left that morning, I can't stop thinking about how cowardly it was. I just didn't want to do the goodbye thing, we're both a bit shit at that. I hope you're not too pissed at me._

_I used the map charm on this and if you do the same then we won't have to worry about content in our letters, most of the people here don't even have a wand, let alone charm skill enough to break through a patented Marauders special._

_I wish I could come home too, I've been dreaming of a hot shower for weeks._

_Write back soon, getting a letter was the best. Truly, the best day in how ever many it's been since I left._

_Moony._

* * *

_November 28_ _th_ _1978_

_Moony,_

_Don't worry about that morning, I get it. I don't hold it against you. I was pretty chuffed you came over at all actually._

_It's been a mad few weeks here, Caradoc reckons the news of the brawl in Croydon would have reached you there. Prongs and Lily are so shaken up after the attack, Dumbledore has no idea why Voldemort himself decided to show up. He hasn't bothered to get his hands dirty in so long now. It was just luck they got away. Days like that make me think we might actually lose this thing, there are so many Death Eaters, I had no idea._

_I've been spending a bit more time with Caradoc lately, his watch partner was injured in the fight and Prongs was too (he's fine now, Dorcas is a miracle worker). But while Prongs was laid up Moody sent the pair of us off to trail a guy he reckons is supplying the other side with classified potions. It was a nice change from hedge watching/ditch crouching, and he's a decent bloke, knows bloody_ _everyone_ _._

_Wormy is back from looking after his mum, she has some sort of relapsing illness. Poor thing, and poor Wormtail, he looks more wrung out than ever after he's been trapped at home with his naggy mum. I never realised how much you and Prongs bridged the gap for me and Wormtail before, Prongs has been with Lily a lot recently, so it's just been me and Wormtail going to the pub, I feel like I hardly know him, is that terrible? He's one of my best mates and I didn't even know he wanted to make Quidditch gear for a living, I get the impression he wouldn't have even joined the Order if Prongs hadn't convinced him. It's nice though, knowing a bit more about him._

_Hope this weekend goes well, will be thinking of you._

_Padfoot._

* * *

_Early December_

_Padfoot,_

_The weekend was a rough one I'm afraid, and I'm worried that it's my fault._

_There was an argument between a few of the others on the day of the full, and that led to a violent night. The fight started because for weeks Greyback has been hinting that our symptoms would be lessened if we fulfilled the desire for human flesh. He says he has a reliable source that has experimented and proved this. He's very casual about it at the moment, like he's just mulling over the idea, and we should too. I know some are interested in anything that would help reduce the pain. It makes me worry that Dumbledore has underestimated Greyback as a leader, he's more cunning than vicious it seems._

_He and a few others never spend full moon with the pack, we all know he's out positioning himself to target muggleborns so he can gain favour with Voldemort, but no one ever says anything. Or they didn't until I came along._

_I've been doing as instructed, healing injuries, talking about other avenues to equal rights, providing food, vaunting Dumbledore to the few I think I can trust, but I can't confront Greyback directly. At the moment he thinks I'm just an idealist, a pacifist, I healed his shoulder after my first full here, he seems to think that means I'm not a threat to him. But one of the women, Rhiannon, she's not as good at keeping her opinions hidden. She ended up in a full-on fist fight with Greyback's second, all because she hates what they're doing on full moon nights. I wasn't mentioned, but I think Greyback has an inkling that I'm not as loyal now. Rhiannon and I spend a lot of time together, one of the young ones is her nephew, the boys seem to like me, I think my version of mentoring is less terrifying than Greyback's. They stick with me most of the time, something else that bothers Greyback. It turns out that the boys were part of his long game; bitten young, taken from society, so he could teach them to distrust humans. I don't think it's worked though. Quinn, he's the eldest (about fourteen) still speaks fondly of his family. Whether a family who would literally leave their son to the wolves and move to France would speak fondly of_ _him_ _is another story._

_I'm sorry to dump all this on you, but there's no one else._

_Love,_

_Moony._

* * *

_December 18_ _th_ _1978_

_Moony,_

_I can't believe the year is nearly over, and that I haven't seen you since June. Six months Moony, that's way too long. Surely you've done enough now? Spread Dumbledore's message as much as possible? Do you think he'll let you come home for winter? Sleeping rough in this frigid weather must be awful. Sorry, I don't mean to whinge, I know it's not your fault. But there is only so many times I can go to the pub with Wormtail before I start to lose my mind._

_The only real news I have to share is that Prongs and Lily have moved into a flat, Mrs Potter is furious. But you know her, perfect little Jamie can't stay in the dog house for long. I'm sure she'll be over it in no time. Sunday lunch was a pretty awkward affair though! Lily skipped out on us, saying she had unpacking to do, so it was just Prongs and me and Mr and Mrs Potter. Honestly, I've never seen lips as white as Mrs Potter's, I don't think she actually ate anything. It reminded me of dinners at home, bloody traumatising!_

_I really hope things have calmed down out there for you. It must be so exhausting to be on edge all the time. You're right, I did laugh at the thought of you teaching little were-kids, but I bet it's making you happy, Professor Moony! Of course they like you, you're very likable. Although I think I might be a bit biased. And I really bloody hope they like you for your super patience and cleverness, rather than the way you - …. Sorry, I can't bring myself to write that down. I'm sure you can use your imagination._

_Love,_

_Padfoot._

* * *

There was sideways sleet in London on the morning of New Year's Eve. Sirius knew this intimately because a large amount of it had found its way down his neck as he, Caradoc and Benjy Fenwick hurried on foot up the drive to Pinfold. James had left them at the front gate, eager to get home to Lily; they'd been in their London flat for a month now, much to Mrs. Potter's ongoing disapproval, and it seemed to Sirius as though all they ever did was shag.

They had plans to meet at the pub near Sirius's place that evening to get the New Year's festivities underway. Sirius supposed that with the evening allocated to socialising, James and Lily would be spending the day in bed to get in their mad daily lovebird-shag-quota.

Caradoc, Benjy, James and Sirius had been out on a grim mission during the night. They had all been at headquarters when word had come in the late afternoon that Edgar Bones's family had been attacked and taken hostage. The four men had been sent out to scour the area for clues as to which Death Eaters it could have been, so that they could narrow down the places the family might have been taken. However, it turned out the information had been faulty, the family had not been taken hostage. They had been murdered - their bodies left scattered about the smouldering remains of their destroyed house for the crows to peck at.

Sirius understood now why so many of the older Order members seemed to drink all the time. He found himself craving a bit of warm numbness on a regular basis too. He didn't think he'd ever forget the sight of the Bones girls lying in the long grass with blank staring dull eyes, like sinister dolls, still in their night things. He knew this was really why James and Lily spent so much time in bed, orgasm wiped your brain clear of any disturbing image far more effectively than a glass of Firewhiskey.

Sirius shrugged his coat tighter and turned up his collar as he followed the other two down the path that lead to the back door, and main entrance to headquarters. It was much more sheltered on the overgrown walk than the exposed driveway but his breath still puffed out in white clouds, and though he'd been wanting a cigarette for the last two hours, now all he could think of was standing perilously close to the big fire in the medi-room for as long as Dorcas would let him.

On top of the unpleasant night, Sirius's spirits were lower than normal anyway, Caradoc hadn't given him a letter from Remus in two whole weeks, and to add insult to injury, Benjy seemed to have developed something of an issue with Sirius. Ever since he'd seen Fenwick roll his eyes at the Snitch and Kneazle back in October Sirius had felt like the guy watched him, he seemed to look in Sirius's direction more often than was natural. Not only that, but every time Caradoc would accompany Sirius for a smoke, or they played cards or death eater face darts together in the parlour he would glare at the pair of them. Sirius had entertained the possibility that Benjy had a thing for Caradoc, but it was pretty obvious that the man was straight, straight and sleeping with Mackinnon, Lily's watch partner. But he and Caradoc were good friends, maybe Benjy just didn't want to share.

They clambered on to the back porch, stiff-kneed and heavy footed. Benjy braved the freezing air, tugging his gloveless hand from his pocket and waving his wand to perform the magic to allow them entry.

Sirius was about to enter when Caradoc held him back. All thought of warming himself by the fire vanished as he noted the serious and concerned look in Caradoc's eyes. They hadn't had a chance to speak privately since Caradoc had returned from his delivery to the pack two days ago.

"Were you expecting a reply?" he asked quietly, letting the door swing closed behind Benjy and pulling Sirius down the porch a bit so they weren't standing in the doorway. There was no need for him to be more specific, Sirius knew exactly who Caradoc was talking about.

"I guess," Sirius said, "he didn't say  _not_  to expect one."

Caradoc wrinkled his nose. "Fuck," he muttered. "Has he told you about the situation?"

"He mentioned things were a little unsettled," Sirius said, unnerved to hear it referred to as a 'situation'. That made it sound much more serious.

"It's not like him to miss a pick-up," Caradoc continued, looking out at the sodden lawn, the bare trees whipped in the wind, and Sirius wished they were having this conversation inside.

"There's no chance you just couldn't find the spot?" Sirius said hopefully.

Caradoc raised an eyebrow. "No," he answered quietly, "I found the pack, it's always half a mile west from the camp. But there was nothing. He didn't mention leaving?"

"No," Sirius said.  _Would he have mentioned it?_  Sirius wondered. He guessed so, it wasn't like they were too worried about what they wrote in their letters, with the Marauders Map concealment charm hiding the contents they were safe to say whatever they wished. Sirius's stomach dropped as he realised the most likely reason for a lack of reply, that the unrest in the camp meant Remus was under suspicion and couldn't risk acting furtively.

"Hey, don't worry yet," Caradoc said, kindly, correctly interpreting Sirius's silence as a slow building panic. He patted Sirius reassuringly on the back as he said, "He's pretty good at this, he's probably just keeping his head down."

"If you two are done, Moody is waiting for us," said a loud terse voice from behind them. Benjy Fenwick was standing at the open back door, giving the pair of them a look that made hot guilt bubble uncomfortably in Sirius's stomach for some reason.

"Just making sure the lad's alright," Caradoc said lightly, as his arm tightened around Sirius's shoulders. "We saw some pretty awful things last night."

"How thoughtful of you," Fenwick said dryly, and Sirius got the impression that he was biting his tongue. "Come along then Black, I'll pour you a drink." He held the door open and waited for Sirius to pass him. "Docy, why don't  _you_  go and give Moody the bad news," Fenwick continued, the suggestion sounding somehow like a reprimand.

"Righto, Ben," Caradoc sighed, murmuring as he passed, "We're all adults, you realise."

"Yes, some of us more than others," Benjy said, condescendingly.

"I can hear you, you know," Sirius snapped, his concern for Remus making him sound angrier than he'd meant to.

Both Caradoc and Benjy stared at him. Benjy looked defensive, Caradoc looked like he was trying to hold in a snicker.

"What's your problem with me?" Sirius shot at Benjy, taking a step closer. He realised that he was just venting his frustration with the whole last six months, but that didn't stop him from snarling, "You're always giving me weird looks, I'm sick of it." It seemed now that he'd started this tirade that had been simmering away for months, there was no stopping it. "I deserve to be here just as much as you do, I fight just as hard, I've been on every detail given to me, I cook and do night shift more often than you, so what's your fucking problem?"

Benjy's eyebrows were halfway up his forehead, obviously shocked that Sirius had exploded. "Fine," he said, backing away, "it's up to you." He turned and headed briskly for the parlour.

"What the fuck?" Sirius huffed, annoyed to get such a feeble reaction, an argument would have burned off some of his agitation nicely.

"His problem isn't with you," Caradoc said a little guiltily, "It's with me, er, leading you astray."

"What's it to him?" Sirius said, gesturing angrily in the direction of the parlour, but then he frowned, "Hold on," he said cautiously, "leading me astray?"

Caradoc sighed regretfully. "Benjy is a bit conservative, he and I, we're a good team, but we don't really see eye-to-eye on the personal stuff, he's not too comfortable with my, er ... lifestyle. Idiot reckons I choose to like blokes," Caradoc added disdainfully. "Anyway, I like to annoy him, point out fit blokes and such, and that's fine, he gets me back with far too many details about his latest shag, fair enough, but now‒" Caradoc looked uncomfortable. "He thinks me and you are involved, and I haven't really been able to contradict him because I'd rather him think that, than know that we're actually disobeying orders so you can talk to your mate."

"How does he even know that I'm …." Sirius swallowed, unable to say the tiny little word aloud. "Why does he think I could be led astray?" he re-phrased.

Caradoc rolled his eyes. "It's a  _choice_  remember? Apparently I could persuade you to like cock."

Sirius laughed nervously. "Fuck," he said, feeling the bizarre need to add defensively, "I like girls too."

"Good for you." Caradoc chuckled.

"Shut up," Sirius said.

Caradoc just grinned. "Whatever you want, dear."

Sirius shoved him, but he couldn't help laughing as well.

Caradoc stumbled, grabbing on to Sirius's arm to stay upright. "Come on," he said, once he was steady again. "Benjy can fill Moody in, Potter's already piked, let's get some breakfast, I'm starving."

Sirius didn't argue, he hadn't eaten in hours, and he really didn't want to sit through a rehash of the night's disturbing events anyway.

By the time he and Caradoc had ploughed through a plate of greasy bacon and unnaturally fluffy scrambled eggs in a steamy windowed, early morning café, Sirius had nearly convinced himself that Remus would be fine. Caradoc would do the next drop off like normal, and Remus would have found a way to let them know he was all right.

He had also decided that next time he saw Benjy Fenwick he was going to tell him that he had an excellent arse, just to watch him squirm. Twat.


	6. Part 2: III

Sirius collapsed in an exhausted heap on top of his poorly made bed when he arrived home on New Year's Eve morning. He was completely worn out by his all night Order duties, and the soporific effects of eating his own weight in fried breakfast with Caradoc had put him over the edge.

He was still fast asleep in the mid-afternoon when James's voice woke him abruptly.

"Sirius Black."

Sirius grunted and lifted his face from the rumpled blanket, blinking dazedly.

"Sirius Black," James's voice said again, more impatiently this time, echoing oddly from beneath Sirius's bed.

Sirius rolled over, wondering blearily what James was doing under his bed.

"Prongs?" he asked the empty room as he commando crawled across the mattress until he could hang his head over the edge. There was nothing under there, save a thriving colony of dust bunnies and weirdly, a lone tea cup.

His leather jacket lay on the floor directly below his upside down head and when James's loud answering voice said, "Why can't I see you?" from within the jacket's folds, Sirius fairly jumped out of his skin but he understood at once.

He rooted in the breast pocket for a second, and pulled out his two-way mirror. James's face was grinning at him from the fingerprinty surface.

"Hey," Sirius said, still hanging half off his bed.

Padfoot!" James said, excitedly. "I just stopped in at headquarters because I thought you'd still be here and you'll never guess who I found," he paused for breath, but not apparently for Sirius to attempt answering the question, "Moony! He's back! He's in the medi-room being patched up by Meadows as we speak, looks like he's been in a pretty decent scrap."

Sirius had to throw his hand out to stop him sliding off the bed in shock, because somehow his bones had liquefied. "Moony?" Sirius repeated. The name sounded wrong, he and James had not spoken of their friend in months. Waves of hot and cold rolled through him as the news sunk in. "He's there? He's hurt?"

"He says he's fine," James said happily, completely missing Sirius's minor mental breakdown, "Looks a bit messy, but he's in good spirits."

"He's fine?" Sirius said, clinging on to the word. He was still balanced on his left hand, his right held the mirror, and he was beginning to feel dizzy with all the blood rushing to his head, half off the bed as he was.

"Yeah you know Moony," James said dismissively, "he's always fine. Come on, get your arse over here."

"Oh, okay," Sirius said, faintly, unable to reconcile James's happy-go-lucky attitude with the fact that Remus had left his undercover mission unannounced and apparently violently. "Okay, I'll be there in ten."

James's image dissolved, and Sirius was left looking at his own sleep-smooshed face as he tried to contain his verging panic attack. Remus was hurt, but obviously not that terribly if Dorcas was letting James talk to him, and he was there, back, safe from the wolves, and Sirius could see him, talk to him, kiss him...

Sirius sprang into action at once; he shouldn't be panicking, he should be fucking celebrating! He stumbled from his awkward position as he tried to dismount the bed and haul his jacket on at the same time. He dashed to the bathroom and scrubbed his toothbrush around his mouth to remove the unpleasant greasy breakfast leftovers. Then he splashed water over his face, ran his fingers through his hair and glanced in the mirror. It was then that he realised he looked like absolute shit, but he just shrugged and pelted out the door anyway.

The driveway at Pinfold had never seemed so long, Sirius felt like the house wasn't getting any closer as he jogged towards it. The morning sleet had vanished, and the late afternoon was eerily still, as only a winter afternoon could be. His boots crunched noisily on the gravel drive and the sound seemed to carry for miles. The sun was a slightly lighter patch behind the low grey cloud, sitting barely above the horizon. Despite the lack of sleet the air was still freezing, it burned its icy way into his lungs as he drew breath. Sirius finally reached the side gate. Still running, he practically skipped up the back steps. He hastily flung his wand in the pattern to get the door to open and entered the much warmer hall.

The house was mostly empty, there were only a few people sitting around in the parlour. Benjy and Mackinnon were playing cards by the fire, Benjy looked pointedly away when he saw Sirius pass the door. But who cared, Sirius thought, who cares what that tosser thinks. Remus was here, alive. And here.

After possibly the longest ten minutes of Sirius's life he was finally standing in the doorway to Dorcas's medi-room, and there, sitting sideways on the bed was Remus, or at least Sirius was pretty sure it was him. His hair had been hacked off short and it stuck up in matted clumps. His face and neck were covered in scratches, and had been doused in Dorcas's purple disinfectant and his arm was held to his chest in a stark white sling.

Sirius had always thought of himself as a man of action, the sort that found strength and courage in the face of fear. But as he stood in that doorway, staring at Remus, his knees trembled just a little bit. He wasn't frightened of Remus of course, the thing that scared him was the potency of the emotion that surged through his body at the sight of him. It wasn't even a romantic feeling, not really, more like an overwhelming release of tension. Sirius knew he'd been worried, but he hadn't expected such a physical reaction.

Remus still hadn't looked his way, he was holding something small in his hand, turning it over and over. Before Sirius could open his mouth and announce himself James's loud voice sounded from the staircase. "Padfoot! Finally!"

Remus jumped in fright at the loud noise and his head snapped around, his eyes fell on Sirius's still frozen form at the door. His face split at once, grinning so broadly that Sirius could see he was missing several teeth.

"Hi," Sirius said, finding his voice at last, the tiny word seemed so feeble when there was so much he thought he should say.

"Hi," Remus echoed, his smile beatific.

Suddenly James's shoulder collided with Sirius's and he was shepherded into the medi-room. "Pads, isn't it great? Now we can all go to the pub tonight, it'll be a proper celebration with Moony there too!"

Peter had appeared with James and perched himself next to Remus on the bed. "Quiet down James," Peter mumbled imploringly. "Dorcas will come and kick us out again, Remus needs quiet, remember?"

"Oh right, sorry Rem," James said. He was still bouncingly happy, standing too close to Sirius, vibrating with excitement.

"It's fine," Remus said, "I feel much better than when I arrived, whatever was in those potions is really working." He sounded just like his old self, focusing on the good, accepting his boisterous friends just as they were.

"Does your arm hurt?" Sirius asked, striving to act normally for James and Pete's sake.

Remus shook his head. "No, it's just to stop me moving it 'til the bone is set." He met Sirius's gaze for a moment longer than necessary, his eyes seemed to smile secretly, and Sirius suddenly wanted to jump on him. "Healing magic takes a bit longer on me," Remus finished.

"I remember," Sirius said, he just couldn't stop staring.

Remus's filthy mud-caked and cracked boots were set neatly on the floor beside his bed, and his socks looked to be more darning yarn than original sock. His heavy corduroy trousers were frayed and the knees were worn smooth. On his top half he wore only a long sleeved undershirt, the once white cotton was sweat stained and greying. The clean white sling that held his arm made everything else look filthy in comparison. It was only then that Sirius realised how terribly Remus smelt.

Remus seemed to read Sirius mind, or perhaps he just noticed Sirius's poorly disguised gawping. Whatever it was, he said with his usual wry humour, "I don't know how you three are managing not to gag, I haven't had a proper wash in three months."

James laughed. "It really didn't seem polite to point it out mate."

Sirius laughed too, finally able to believe that this stinky tattered creature really was Remus. Once he began to laugh it was very difficult to stop, James and Pete snickering along, obviously relieved to have their friend back too.

Sirius sank onto the bed on Remus's other side, his laughter verging on hysterical. Remus nudged him with his good elbow and then leaned against him surreptitiously, a warm shiver made its way up Sirius's spine at the closeness, and he was able to take a deep breath for the first time in months.


	7. Part 3: I

"Farewell Nineteen Seventy Eight!" James sang merrily, roundly clinking his pint glass against Lily's, Sirius's and Remus's in one messy sweep. Most of the foamy head was lost to the table top, and now there were cardboard coasters floating in every direction.

They were at the Snitch and Kneazle, it had won out as their New Year's celebratory venue over the corner pub in Camden due to its lack of skin heads. Sirius couldn't find fault with it, but then, he'd go to any pub in the bloody world if it meant he got to stand next to Remus.

The place was packed to bursting, they'd run into tons of ex-Hogwarts students, all of whom were keen to slap the infamous pranksters on the back, or cram themselves in at the table for a pint. The whole Order seemed to be there too. Sirius wondered who was on duty tonight, because even Dumbledore and Moody could be seen in the milling crowd.

"My round!" Peter boasted, as he slid a large circular tray loaded with sloshing drinks onto the already jam-packed table.

"Hooray for Wormy!" Lily cheered, rather drunkenly. She took the nearest glass and planted a smacking kiss on Peter's cheek.

Pete turned bright red, but was bold enough to stage whisper, "Not here Lily, Prongs will find out about us."

"Never!" Lily cried, her arm was tight around Peter's porky middle, possibly for stability, as she giggled hysterically.

"When she's this rat-arsed she's all yours Pete!" James called across the table. "Ha-ha, rat-arsed," he laughed, "Get it?"

Lily casually flipped James off, and Sirius couldn't help but laugh too. Lily and James were so easy together, they seemed like family … in a non-incesty kind of way.

"It's nice to see nothing's changed," Remus said, he stood next to Sirius, on James's other side. Remus was cleaned up, sling free and about the most gorgeous thing Sirius had ever seen. He cast a fond look across the table at their friend's antics. "They're as mad as ever."

"Yeah," Sirius agreed, forcing himself to look away from Remus, "it's good to be out with everyone again, James and Lily haven't really been socialising lately."

"You mentioned that," Remus said, they were standing as close as they dared, but nowhere near close enough in Sirius's opinion; Remus's elbow was not the part of him he wanted to touch. "It must have been weird for you, no James attached to your hip," Remus said.

Sirius shrugged. "Everything is weird anyway," he admitted, "no school, no rules - no you." He tried to sound a bit less like a pessimistic pining girl as he finished, "So no James was just one of the many."

Remus's eyes were full of pity, and it made Sirius feel ridiculous. Whinging because he had no mates was so childish considering the last six months of Remus's life. He still didn't know what had led to Remus's sudden return, but he wasn't supposed to know where he'd been in the first place so he'd planned to wait until they had a minute alone to ask him.

As if to emphasize that this really wasn't the time for private conversation, James banged his glass with the metal rim of an oddly familiar orange lighter to get their attention. "Oi!" he said, looking significantly in their direction, using the lighter as a pointer, "No secrets!" Then he drew himself up and went on, "Share your whispers with the class Mr Black." He somehow managed to sound like a disturbingly inebriated Professor McGonagall.

"Moony was whispering too." Sirius stalled, taking a slow drink from his beer.

James continued his McGonagall impression. "Mr Lupin is a prefect, I doubt he would indulge in such behaviour!"

Sirius started to laugh and hastily swallowed as Remus replied, "I was just telling Sirius that it's good to see nothing's changed." He waved his half-empty pint in Lily's direction. "Pete's still on with Lily, you still think it's all a big joke, exactly how it was at school."

"That's a good point Moony!" Sirius said, more cheered up than he would have thought possible by Remus's straight faced delivery, he sounded just like his old self. "Prongs, did you ever consider that Lily is actually cheating on Peter with  _you_ , not the other way around?"

Peter was starting to look uncomfortable, but strangely pleased with the attention, and Lily obviously found the whole charade hilarious because she was still hanging off Peter as she trilled, "We've been together for years!"

James lifted his eyebrows and said teasingly, "Are you saying I should have asked Wormtail for your hand, not your Dad? You could have said, that would have been much less daunting!"

Lily giggled, but Peter, Remus and Sirius all fell silent as the meaning of this sentence sunk in. The noise of the surrounding patrons suddenly became more conspicuous as the three Marauders looked from James to Lily and back again.

"Oh shit," James muttered, paling slightly as he met Sirius's surprised eyes. Lily just looked embarrassed.

Then Sirius blurted out, a little too loudly, "You're getting  _married_?"

"Why didn't you tell us?" Peter asked, his eyes were flitting nervously between Sirius and James who were still staring at each other.

"Are you pregnant?" Remus spluttered, looking at Lily.

"Are you calling me fat?" Lily shot back quickly, one ginger eyebrow raised sharply. It was hard to tell if she was serious. James chucked nervously.

"Er, I'm drunk?" Remus suggested, backtracking hastily.

Sirius snorted at Remus's completely unexpected abruptness, James clapped him on the back. "Well played Rem," James said as Lily smiled once more.

"No I'm not  _pregnant_ ," she said, a little indignantly, "you sound like my dad."

She fished a fine chain out from beneath the neck of her blouse, a small silver ring swung from it. "It doesn't fit yet," Lily said, smiling softly at the dangling ring, "It was James's grandmother's. He only asked me yesterday."

The ring glinted in the light, diamonds set with a dark stone Sirius couldn't pick at a distance. "We were going to tell you tonight, but then with the horrible stuff at the Bones's, and Moony arriving, it didn't seem right."

"But there's always room for happy news," Remus said, looking a bit confused, "No matter what."

"Yeah," Sirius agreed, "we need more good shit." He felt shell-shocked, how was it possible for them to be grown up enough to get married?

"Congratulations," Peter said, recovering his manners first, he hugged Lily. "I do wish you would have asked though, now who'll be my pretend girlfriend?"

Remus made an effort too, he pounded James on the back and said happily, "You always said you'd marry her. Remember in third year when we saw Lily holding hands with Diggory in Hogsmeade? You insisted that it didn't matter because one day she'd be your wife not his."

"That's right," Peter piped up. "And then Sirius called you a daft sappy bird and pushed you down the hill by the shack."

Sirius laughed at the memory, and James glowered at him. "That's right, it bloody hurt too, rocks all over the place." He rubbed at his head in remembered pain for a moment but then suddenly his expression cleared, and he asked, "You'll be best man?"

Sirius stopped laughing. "Seriously?" James rolled his eyes as if to say, ' _You wanker, who else?'_

It was this assumption that made it click in Sirius's head, of course Lily and James were getting married, they were perfect, he'd thought that enough times over the last year. "Course I will," he replied quickly. He clapped James's shoulder across the table. "Well done Prongs," he said soberly, "there aren't many like her."

James went a bit pink in the face as he cleared his throat. "Thanks Padfoot."

"James and Lily!" Remus said, raising his glass.

"Lily and James!" Peter and Sirius echoed.

As the news spread through the crowd of half-known acquaintances that last year's head boy and girl were to be married, the drinks arriving at their table never seemed to end. Lily was kissed on the cheek by half the men in the pub, and James was swaying from matching every toast in his name. Sirius wasn't far behind, the world was becoming pleasantly fuzzy around the edges, but despite this he felt jittery. There was a nervous patter that kept racing through him whenever he looked at Remus, a feeling that no amount of alcohol could combat.

"So this is what happened to all the drink!" a voice exclaimed next to Sirius's ear, startling him. It was Caradoc, he was looking accusingly at the towering collection of empty pint and shot glasses. "Should have known, plenty to celebrate eh?" He reached around Sirius to ruffle Remus's hair. "This one's back from his wander – "

Remus ducked out from under Caradoc's hand, with a good-natured, " _Get out of it, tosser,_ " and stepped in close to Sirius under the pretence of using him as a human shield.

"– And you two," Caradoc continued, raising his glass to James and Lily.

Sirius was only half listening, Remus's fingers had snuck inside his jacket, and were lingering tentatively against his ribs. They were so warm through the cotton of his t-shirt. He snatched his beer from the leaner as a distraction, fearful that he might crush Remus to him and snog him right there in the middle of the pub if he didn't focus.

"You're looking better," Caradoc said to Remus, who reluctantly withdrew his hand from Sirius's side.

"Yeah, Dorcas is something special," Remus said, "and a shower helped. Although." He looked into his glass accusingly. "I'd say I should have gone a bit easier on the booze tonight, my tolerance isn't what it used to be."

"Cheap date." Caradoc laughed.

Remus nodded in rueful agreement and then flashed a beaming smile in Sirius's direction. The nervous patter in Sirius's stomach seemed to increase tenfold, and he shot a quick glance around to make sure no one had noticed the obvious flirtation. Thankfully Lily and James were occupied by a pair of dumpy witches, who were insisting on giving them advice for a long and happy marriage, and Pete was talking to a blonde girl Sirius didn't know.

Even Caradoc seemed to have missed it, he was trying to balance his empty glass on the table without knocking down the precarious tower of empties. "Remus mate, have you got a sec?" Caradoc asked, when he was sure there wasn't going to be an avalanche of glassware.

Remus's smile slipped at once, and his eyes became serious. He twitched his head in the direction of the door and backed away from Sirius, Caradoc followed.

Sirius frowned after them,  _What was all that about? Is Remus in some kind of trouble?_  Caradoc wasn't the sort to worry unnecessarily; the foolish happy feeling Sirius'd had since the afternoon deflated somewhat.

James had escaped his well-wishers and sidled round the table to talk to Sirius. "You shouldn't look so worried," he said, following Sirius's gaze to Caradoc and Remus, they had their heads bent together near the door. "I doubt he'll move in on your man."

Sirius's heart seemed to jump into his throat, beating rapidly.  _James knew?_  He must have noticed their closeness after all. Sirius's nearly empty glass slipped from his grip, and he fumbled, it hit the floor and shattered, sending sharp shards scattering everywhere.

James looked at him with his eyebrows raised. "Holy shit mate, calm down."

"Whoops," Sirius said feebly, pretending he hadn't heard James's comment as he withdrew his wand and clumsily vanished the mess. "I'm feeling it a bit tonight," he added honestly.

"Me too," James said, returning to his observation of Remus and Caradoc. "So, will you kiss him at midnight?" he asked, offhandedly.

"Prongs!" Sirius all but squeaked, trying to laugh it off. "You've definitely had a few too many, what are you on about?"

"I'm not thick Sirius," James stated bluntly, "it's been going on for ages, I don't care." He regarded Sirius closely. "Well I  _do_ , but you know, it's you, so I'm here or whatever."

Sirius blinked several times. His drink affected brain struggled to comprehend that James had figured out about him and Remus and wasn't angry or repulsed.

"There's nothing," Sirius began, but he couldn't flat out lie to James. "Not really, yet." He stopped and took a deep steadying breath. "Fuck," he said heavily, "it's meant to be secret, what gave it away?"

James's mouth was tight, like he'd been expecting Sirius to deny it, and was disappointed that he hadn't. "You spend all your free time with him, everyone knows he's bent, you're always whispering, or leaving meetings together, it's kind of obvious."

 _Everyone knew Remus was bent? … Meetings?_  "Hang on," Sirius said sharply, "You think I'm seeing  _Caradoc_?"

"It's alright Pads." James sighed frustratedly. "I wish you'd bloody told me you were queer now though, it's kind of a surprise."

"I'm  _not_  with Caradoc," Sirius said emphatically. "We're mates, since I had no one else." James looked wounded. "Don't pull that face," Sirius said, heatedly, "you know it's true, you have spent more time fucking Lily than at Headquarters this winter."

"Watch it," James said, his hurt expression morphing to one of offence, "I love her Sirius, it's what you do when you're in love."

Sirius bit his tongue, he nearly said,  _'What, neglect everyone else?'_  but he didn't want to seem jealous - even though he was a bit. "Yeah," Sirius said apologetically instead, nodding, "yeah I know."

"Is that why you kept it a secret?" James asked, and Sirius realised that James was feeling guilty for being so distracted. "'Cause you were angry at me for spending time with Lily?"

"I'm not angry at you," Sirius said at once. "And I'm not seeing Caradoc, I'm –" he paused, unsure how to proceed. What could he say? Tell him it wasn't Caradoc, but Remus he wanted to be with? He somehow thought James's response would be  _much_ less accepting to that, not to mention how Remus would react to his telling, he sighed internally and then continued, his tone hesitant, "Prongs, I don't know what I am, but you were busy and Caradoc's a fun bloke, a good mate, you know I'm no good by myself."

"That's true," James said, "speak of the devil." Caradoc was heading their way, but Remus was nowhere in sight. "Where's Moony?" James asked him, looking around.

"Moony?" Caradoc laughed, "Subtle, you lot."

"Give us credit, we were only twelve when we started calling him that," James said, and then he grinned, "I'll leave you two to it, shall I?" He wiggled his eyebrows, and Caradoc gave him a look that suggested concern for his sanity.

"Cut it out, tosser," Sirius said, annoyed that James seemed to have missed the whole point of their brief conversation, and was now being a dick about it.

"Do you want another drink?" Caradoc asked, with possibly the worst timing ever, as James snickered and headed off to talk to Lily and Peter again. Sirius groaned, and Caradoc said in amusement, "You can say no if it's such a hardship."

"It's not that," Sirius said, "Sorry, James and Fenwick have been spending far too much time together."

"Oh." Caradoc understood at once. "Does he think we're...?"

"Yes, although he seems to find it funny, rather than morally questionable."

Caradoc chuckled. "Your posh boy accent gets so thick when you're pissed."

"Bugger off." Sirius laughed self-consciously, glad that Caradoc wasn't bothered by James's mocking. "At least I don't sound like a sloshed welsh farmer."

"True enough boyo." Caradoc grinned impishly.

Sirius felt a horrible twinge of guilt, he could see why James was suspicious, they possibly  _were_  a little friendlier than they should be.

"Never mind about Potter," Caradoc said lightly, "now that there aren't letters to pass I'll tell Benjy there's nothing going on."

"That will help," Sirius said. "Where is Remus?" he asked, it had dawned on him that James would likely share his gossipy suspicions with Pete and Remus the moment he had the chance, and in Remus's case that could do quite a lot of damage. Sirius had a famously poor track record when it came to fidelity, he wouldn't blame Remus for entertaining the possibility that he'd been fooling around while he was away.

"In the men's," Caradoc said, "Sorry to interrupt the fun before, but I just got word that a couple of the others have broken away, Remus needed to know, they'll probably come looking for him."

"What? Other  _wolves_?" Sirius hissed in horror.

A call across the room interrupted them. "Docy!" It was the Prewett brothers, hailing Caradoc from the bar.

"Look mate," Caradoc said quickly, "this isn't really the place. Catch up tomorrow or something?"

"Yeah, good as," Sirius said, "Have a good night." He was glad to have an excuse to depart, he had to talk to Remus, wolves coming after him was terrifying and James's big mouth was potentially problematic. At least he could head off one of the impending disasters.

* * *

The toilets in the Snitch were nothing special; water spotted mirrors and sinks on the same wall as the door, and a utilitarian trough urinal opposite them with the day's addition of The Daily Prophet strung up, held open in convenient elasticated displays. Sirius had only just registered that Remus was nowhere to be seen when a stall door opened behind him and he was dragged back by a rough hand.

"What the –" Sirius's tipsy feet shuffled backwards, but he had his wand in hand and a stunner on the tip of his tongue when he heard Remus laugh. The hands released him, and the cubicle door slammed shut, Sirius spun around to find himself face to face with Remus in the cramped stall.

"Hi," Remus said, his expression was pure mischief, "I'm not sure why our relationship revolves around the toilets, but –"

Sirius couldn't take it, after six months of waiting, they were finally alone; he stowed his wand in one quick movement, and his hand came up to cup Remus's jaw, cutting him off with a fevered kiss. Sirius cheered internally as Remus kissed back with a grunt of enthusiasm.

Almost at once Remus's hands were inside Sirius's jacket again, but the touch was no longer tentative, it was possessive, holding Sirius to him. Sirius's fingers carded Remus's short hair, it was still long enough to hold onto, but only just. Kissing Remus was just as brilliant as Sirius had remembered, the same staccato pulse pounded through him, the same desperate urge to be as close, as entwined as possible, took over.

Remus was crowded right up against the stall, and eventually he broke the kiss to let his head fall back against the wall. He was flushed and breathing heavily, his eyes were closed but he was smiling. "Christ I'm smashed," he said, laughing breathily, "this probably isn't the best idea."

"Come home with me then," Sirius suggested impulsively.

Remus opened his eyes, they were glazed and scorching. "What, right now?"

"Why not?" Sirius's voice was husky as he pushed closer, they were touching thigh to chest, and Remus let out an almost silent groan, and his eyes fluttered closed again.

"Fuck," he said, "I know we need to talk and things, but –" He shifted against Sirius, and his voice wavered. "G-God, I'm hard as hell and so pissed, I can't even think, let alone–"

Sirius felt like his brain was exploding. Was Remus asking him to get him off here, in the men's? That would just be asking for trouble … but then he was tugged in by a jerk of his jacket collar, and kissed so deeply that his fingers started working open Remus's trousers without a second thought. He quite liked trouble, after all.


	8. Part 3: II

 

The first of January Nineteen Seventy Nine slapped Sirius in the face like a spurned lover; sudden and painful but really, he only had himself to blame. One moment he was asleep and enjoying the abstract lager fuelled half-dreams of a drunk person, then the next it was as if some great cosmic vacuum cleaner had been switched on and the pleasant confusion was sucked away, leaving him startled and awake with a horrific pain behind both his eyes and a mouth that resembled a dessert of hops flavoured sand.

Sirius reached out blindly, feeling for his nightstand, grateful that he was prepared. When he'd returned home to change and wash before heading out to the Snitch the night before, he'd had the forethought to leave his bottle of  _Hudson's Hemp Hangover Harrier_  in his top draw. He'd known that it was extremely likely that he would be waking up to a pounding head and roiling stomach. He gulped down a healthy swallow, its botanical taste clashed oddly with his Sahara mouth.  _Hudson's_  was an effective hangover remedy, it always made him feel a bit floaty for a while, and starving hungry later, but it was preferable to most of the others on the market, whose sole purpose seemed to be inducing vomit.

Sirius lay still as the potion flooded him, smothering his headache and dulling the seedy feeling in his belly. His bedroom was dim, the sun barely up, and the city beyond the windows had that eerie bank-holiday-crossed-with-a-zombie-apocalypse-silence that only hit London on the most public of public holidays. The occasional lone car trundled by, its engine sounding louder than usual without the early morning pedestrian commuters nattering noisily on the footpaths to muffle it. It was this lack of external sound that drew Sirius's attention to the steady breathing of his bed fellow. The sharp edged pain in his head had driven the memory of the night before deep into the recesses of his brain and so he was momentarily surprised to find Remus curled up and snoring softly a mere foot from his right shoulder.

Sirius rolled over carefully to face Remus, and there was an uncomfortable twinge in his upper arm as he did so, he suddenly remembered thumping it into the door frame when he and Remus had arrived home, wobbly and snickering and pawing at each other's clothes.

Remus looked young and sweet with his old-soul eyes hidden by sleeping lids and his bottom lip fluttering with every heavy exhale. His hand rested on the pillow beside his face, the white pillowslip made it look tanned and weathered, like the hand of a farmer. His nail beds still held the stubborn dirt from months of forest dwelling and there were nicks and scrapes across his knuckles. Sirius wondered why these hadn't been healed up yesterday at Headquarters.

His recollection of the night before began to repair itself slowly. Everything was pretty clear until Remus had come all over his hand in the pub loos. Remus's forehead had been pressed against the join of Sirius's neck and shoulder so that his erratic panting breath fanned across Sirius's collar bone beneath his shirt. But after that it was just a vague blur of clinking glasses, off-key singing and James and Peter dancing on a table that collapsed halfway through their merry jig.

Sirius remembered the countdown, and James and Remus laughing uproariously when Sirius had kissed a permed and stern looking old dodder on the wrinkled cheek at the strike of twelve. He and Remus had left not long after that, apparating rather dangerously to the alley outside Sirius's flat and making it up the stairs and through the door eventually, pausing for a snog every few steps. Then he recalled tripping in the doorway to his bedroom, colliding with the door jam and somehow managing to land on his bed rather than the floor. Remus had been giggling far too hard to make any sort of sexual overture as he crawled up next to him and Sirius had found the sound far too delightful to stop him. They'd fallen asleep half-dressed not long afterward.

He shuffled up close to Remus now, feeling slow and lazy and like having someone to snuggle into on a cold winter morning was about the best thing in the world. He snuck his arm over Remus's waist, and the werewolf stirred a little, then froze, still as stone under Sirius's arm – even his breathing stopped. A fraction of a second passed, and Sirius realised Remus wasn't just still, he was tensed, before Sirius could really register what that meant there was a sharp flurry of movement and a tearing growl. Sirius's arm was jerked away as he was flipped onto his back violently, pinned to the soft mattress by Remus's weight and held down with a strong hand at his throat and the other one shoving his wrists into the pillow.

Remus looked feral, teeth bared and all but snarling, his nostrils flared and his pupils were tiny black pricks in a sea of almost yellowish brown.

Sirius struggled but he was held fast. "Moony?" he croaked, the pressure on his windpipe was frightening.

Remus blinked and he seemed to see Sirius properly. His face paled from white to grey to green -tinged in rapid succession and he released Sirius and threw himself sideways, then he retched and there was a repulsive splattering sound.

"Rem?" Sirius asked weakly, massaging his throat.

"Nurgh," Remus groaned, hanging limply across Sirius's knees.

"Are you... what was that about?"

"M s'rry," he mumbled.

Sirius reached for his wand on the nightstand, and propped himself up on an elbow to look over the edge of the bed. There was a puddle of very liquid spew precariously close to his haphazardly discarded boots and jeans. " _Evanesco,"_  he muttered, to vanish the mess.

"'Hanks," Remus managed, he rolled off Sirius with a flump.

Sirius got out his bottle of  _Hudson's Hemp_  again and unstopped it. He was glad he'd already taken his dose, it seemed to give everything a sense of unreality and fortunately kept him calm, because being attacked in his own bed was very unsettling. "Here," he said, tilting the bottle to Remus's lips.

Remus swallowed obediently. "Fuuuuck," he moaned, lying very still. "Why are there pheasants in my head?" he asked nonsensically.

Sirius sniggered, caught off guard by the ludicrous question. "I don't know. Did the pheasants make you strangle me?"

"God I'm sorry," Remus uttered wretchedly as he turned his head to look at Sirius. His eyes no longer held the wild glaze, but a horrible self-reproach that Sirius hated to see. "I didn't know where I was," Remus continued softly, very nearly pleading, "I panicked, I haven't slept in a bed for six months …"

Sirius didn't really know what to say, because he felt like telling Remus it was okay would be a pretty obviously hollow platitude. Being strangled was absolutely not okay.

"Did I hurt you?" Remus asked reluctantly. He reached out a hand and lightly trailed his finger tip over Sirius's throat. "There's a mark," he said, and his mouth twisted in guilt, "Padfoot I-" He jerked away, sitting bolt upright on the bed. His hands were curled in on themselves clenched so tight it looked painful, he was glaring at them, then abruptly he moved his glare to Sirius. "This is why I don't do this shit," he said angrily, "I've hurt you."

"Fuck that," Sirius said, offended by the notion that he was so fragile. He sat up too, and extended a hand to Remus's tightly coiled ones, thankfully he didn't pull away. "I gave you a fright, and you're not the only one, did you know I nearly stunned you in the loo last night?" Remus shook his head, his face averted once more. "Shit's weird at the moment, being jumpy is probably pretty normal."

Remus bit his lip, quite obviously wanting to let Sirius brush it aside, but his conscience seemed to have the last word. "I don't think strangling your boyfriend is normal in any circumstances."

Sirius probably should have been concerned that Remus was so down on himself, or that he was right; being strangled wasn't normal, but he struggled to comprehend anything other than the oddness of being called Remus's boyfriend. It made the nervous patter from the night before return in full force.

He cast around for a distraction. "Do you want breakfast?" Sirius asked, hastily. "I don't think I have much, tea at least," he babbled, "but I haven't been eating here a lot."

Remus blinked for a moment, apparently taken by surprise at the chirpy question. Then a relieved little smile curled on his face as his base desire to keep people happy won out over his internal turmoil. "I really just want a shower," he said, "the water pressure at Headquarters was rubbish, I still feel itchy."

"It's that old countryside plumbing," Sirius said, buoyed up by his success in diffusing the tense moment. "Authentically Georgian Lily calls it."

"Famous for their hygiene, those Georgians," Remus said, tentatively ironic, "I think the women used to get sewn into their dresses at the beginning of winter and cut out of them in spring."

Sirius wrinkled his nose. "Eww."

Remus shrugged, the relief spreading through him was almost visible as he allowed himself to relax. "It might be one of those old wives tales," he said thoughtfully. "I don't know, but the shower at Pinfold is like a leaky tap."

"Well you're welcome to mine, I'll put the kettle on." Sirius got up at once. He snared his t-shirt from the night before from the floor in the hallway and shrugged it on as he went through the sitting room to the kitchen. London winters were not at all conducive to wandering around in your boxer-shorts.

He opened the pantry to discover he possessed only the stale heel of a loaf of bread and three bags of crisps. Crisps were not ideal hangover food, what he really wanted was bacon, preferably with fresh bread and too much butter in the form of a sandwich. He heard the squeak and groan of the turn-of-century pipes (the twentieth century thankfully) as the shower came on in the bathroom and smiled. Remus was really here; he might be a little disturbed, but he was in Sirius's flat, reasonably happy, and most importantly, safe and sound.

Deciding that they needed real food, Sirius set about hunting for his leather jacket, which he located in a heap by the front door – thrown off in a fit of boozy passion no doubt, and his wallet too, which must have been dislodged from his back pocket during some of Remus's more brazen groping because it was on the floor in the sitting room.

He collected his wand from the bedroom and then knocked on the bathroom door as he passed, calling over the rush of water, "Moony I'm going down the shop, be back in five."

"Okay," Remus called back, "I'll be in here, I don't think I'm ever going to get out."

Sirius laughed. "I'm coming back with bacon."

"You drive a hard bargain," Remus replied.

* * *

Sirius walked quickly down the footpath, the streets nearly empty, unsurprising since it was a somewhat bleak and breezy New Year's Day morning, and everybody who could be was still tucked up in bed, and probably hungover. The record shop, Sirius's local, Royal Doyle Records, looked forlorn as he passed, all dark and silent with its footpath crates pushed inside and visible in the gloom through the double glass doors. Sirius had dug through those bargain bins more times than he could count. His growing collection was comprised almost entirely from the weekly pound album special, and other various recommendations.

The corner shop was in the opposite direction to the pub he and James had frequented in less uncertain times, at the other end of Sirius's block. It was small and overpriced, selling an odd mix of cigarettes, pornography and browning bananas. But in the back corner, past the glossy magazine covers with blacked out breasts and shelves and shelves of brightly packaged sweets was a narrow fridge with a slightly loose seal that was stocked with bacon, butter and milk so Sirius found it perfectly adequate.

The clerk was slumped unenthusiastically behind the counter, his chin resting on his hand and his eyes unfocused. He looked almost annoyed to be interrupted in his daydreaming by Sirius's custom. He rang up Sirius's purchases on the till with a dull and monotonous, "That'ill be four pounds fifty."

Sirius shoved a scrunched up fiver into his hand and said, "Keep the change," before heading back out into the fresh morning air. It wasn't out of kindness that he let the grumpy bugger keep his fifty pence, just that muggle money was confusing enough so he didn't like to complicate his wallet contents with non-magic coins.

Sirius hummed to himself for the first few metres once he was outside again, enjoying the empty street despite the chill, his plastic breakfast bag swung in his hand, and it wasn't until he drew level with Royal's that he noticed that the footpath was not as deserted as he had thought. There was a dark haired man in a long coat standing on the pavement outside the door to the stairs that lead up to Sirius's flat. It was as if he'd just popped out of the ground, he was looking up at the windows on the first floor of the building- Sirius's sitting room. Sirius ducked in to the doorway of the record shop.

The man's face wasn't visible because his longish loose hair kept whipping across it in the wind, and due to the morning chill Sirius couldn't tell whether he was a muggle dressed for warmth, or a wizard dressed as normal. Sirius shook his wand from his sleeve, very glad that he was paranoid enough to take it with him on such a quick errand. He put his breakfast shopping down, and edged out from the doorway. As stealthy as he was trying to be, his movement alerted the man to his presence. But as soon as he looked in Sirius's direction, Sirius recognised him.

" _Reg_?" Sirius said loudly, too baffled to say much more. His little brother, the very properly brainwashed Regulus, had never visited Sirius's flat before. They had barely acknowledged each other since Sirius had left home for good three years ago.  _Why on earth is he here?_ Sirius thought. Regulus was quite openly involved with the blood purity movement that was rife among the children of the old wizarding families, most of whom didn't hide their ambition to support Voldemort when they finished school, and Regulus knew very well what Sirius thought of that. There had been numerous scuffles in the corridors of Hogwarts between purists and the more out-spoken upper years who were against it, Sirius and James had been involved in their fair share.

Regulus took a step nearer, and Sirius lifted his wand; he really didn't trust his brother.

"Sirius I'm not here to fight, I –" Regulus said hurriedly, he looked up and down the street, he was still hunched inside his coat, the collar up high. "Look, I just want to talk to you, can I come inside?"

"No," Sirius said, very glad for the deserted street since he had his wand out in broad daylight. "Has mother sent you?"

"No," Regulus said indignantly, forgetting his secretive manner, "she doesn't send me anywhere, I'm an adult now."

"Barely," Sirius said disdainfully. Regulus's birthday was in the first week of October, he had turned seventeen.

Regulus sneered at him, "You don't even know, I've done things, important –"

"Whatever," Sirius said, twitching his wand, "you and your little Death Eater wannabe mates, picking on Hufflepuff's will hardly impress Voldemort you know." Sirius knew all too well what  _would_  impress Voldemort these days, the blank faces of the little Bones girls flashed before his eyes when he blinked, and he felt slightly sick. How could anyone want to be part of that, no matter the overall goal?

"That's not –" Regulus began frustratedly but then he shook his head, as if disagreeing with himself. "Look, I need to warn you, Potter is your watch partner right, with Dumbledore's lot?"

The sickness in Sirius's stomach intensified suddenly as he realised that this wasn't just some brotherly tiff. The only way Regulus could know about Order watch partners was through the Death Eaters, because the Order was a secret society on all sides, only Death Eaters saw them in their fighting sets. Was Voldemort recruiting school boys now? Regulus still had two terms of Hogwarts to go, what use could he be to the cause?

Seized by suspicion, Sirius lunged forward, grasping Regulus by the forearm.  _Surely he isn't actually one of them_ , Sirius hoped and argued in his head,  _perhaps he's just been listening at doors during dinner parties_. He dragged the thick sleeve of his little brother's coat back up his arm, and a dead, heavy weight fell on Sirius when he saw the ugly black mark marring Regulus's pale forearm.

The wrist twisted violently in his grip, and Regulus shoved him hard in the chest, yanking his arm out of reach. "Get off!" he snarled. He righted his coat and looked furious, but he didn't draw his wand.

"You fool," Sirius hissed, "what have you done?" He advanced on his brother, wand raised, and took him roughly by the collar, hauling him toward the disapparation alley. Sirius should have known something was off, Regulus didn't fight him at all, just allowed Sirius to tow him around the corner out of sight.

"I can't believe you actually joined, you stupid little wanker!" Sirius growled the moment they were out of sight of the street. He rammed Regulus back against the brick wall of the building as he continued forcefully, "What am I saying, of course you joined, bet Mummy's dead pleased, and Father, you'll be his little hero now."

"You prick, let me go." Regulus struggled against Sirius's restraining arm. "I told you I wanted to warn you."

Sirius didn't let up, his wand still covering Regulus, his left forearm pressed firmly against his brother's chest. "I don't need warnings from Death Eaters," Sirius spat.

"You need to keep away from Potter," Regulus said anyway, "he's got a massive target on him, the Dark Lord wants him."

Sirius's mind went blank in shock, his heart beat echoed disorientingly in his ears as he absorbed the warning. He fought to keep his face neutral, because he didn't want to admit how much such a sentence scared him, being on Voldemort's hit list was a hideously dangerous place to be. "Voldemort wants to kill everyone that fights him," Sirius said, managing to maintain his nonchalance.

"He doesn't want to  _kill_  Potter," Regulus corrected, sounding like the condescending twat Sirius knew he could be, and still trying to wiggle out from under Sirius's arm. Sirius pushed a bit harder just to spite him. "He needs his help, he's after something in the Potter family vault."

"Don't be absurd," Sirius scoffed, his brother must have misunderstood. Voldemort wanted to exterminate muggleborns, and he already had very secure financial backers for that. "The richest of our kind are on his side, our family included," Sirius reminded Regulus, "they make massive donations, why would Voldemort bother with Bloodtraitor treasure?"

"I don't know yet – but we have orders, all of us, bring Potter in alive, and his mudblood for leverage. Kill anyone who tries to stop us."

 _He seems so sure,_  Sirius thought. But it didn't make a lot of sense. "Why do you think he only mentioned James?" he asked, keeping his voice as calm as he was able. "He's not the only Potter out there." Thankfully the senior Potters were on their annual avoid-the-winter-holiday, they had left for Cairns on Boxing Day, so at least they were safely out of the way for a while.

"I don't  _know_ ," Regulus stressed. "We were given the orders last night, he said it was the last possible avenue to the vault." He struggled to get away again, and whinged, "Will you let me go?"

"No. Why are you telling me this?" Sirius demanded.

Regulus was surprised, he raised an eyebrow in an expression Sirius knew looked very much like one of his own. "Because, I mean, I know we don't really see eye to eye, but you're –" He looked embarrassed, and shrugged awkwardly. "Would you want  _me_  to be murdered?" he asked eventually.

"Only if I got to do it," Sirius snarked, with a glare at Regulus's marked wrist, he was more touched than he'd like to admit that Regulus still valued him as a brother. "But no, not really I suppose," he admitted honestly.

"Is it so hard to believe I feel the same?" Regulus said, his voice was much smaller than before, but he wore a heavy frown that contradicted it.

"Yes," Sirius said, his anger returning in full force. "Death Eaters kill innocent children Reg,  _children_ , why would you give two shits about me?"

Regulus's stony expression wavered, and he looked like the little brother Sirius remembered, but it was gone as quickly as it came, his eyes hardened before he spoke. "Whatever, If you're out with Potter, you'll be killed," Regulus said bluntly. "The Dark Lord was very clear - aim to kill, none of the usual exceptions for purebloods."

 _That explains a lot,_  Sirius thought as he searched his brother's face for a hint of regret, or maybe just another glimpse of the boy he'd been. He'd wondered months ago why the Death Eaters hadn't been using deadly force in his previous encounters with them. He and James, rebellious purebloods. It made sense in a horrible way, if Voldemort won he'd want as many purebloods left alive as possible, traitors could still be used as breeding stock. "Fine, I'll be on the watch., Sirius said shortly.

"Good, there's more going on here than I think anyone realises, Ebenezer Smith says heirlooms have gone missing in the past –"

"So?" Sirius said sharply, disliking the conversational tone Regulus's voice had taken. Didn't he understand that Sirius hated everything he stood for? "Everyone knows Death Eaters are thieves, that's the least of their crimes – or  _your_  crimes I suppose I should say." He released Regulus in disgust and turned his back as he walked away, he knew his brother wouldn't attack him now.

"Sirius, I –"

"Just go home Reg," Sirius said dismissively, wanting nothing more than to collect his shopping and be shot of the hypocritical arse.

Thankfully Regulus seemed to understand this because there was a reluctant huff and then the pop of apparition, and the alley was empty.

* * *

Sirius shut the door to the stairs that lead up to his flat behind him and leaned against it. Whatever he said to Regulus this was valuable and disturbing information, James was in danger and for once they knew in advance.

" _Patronum Nuntius,"_  he murmured,  _Dumbledore,_  Sirius thought as he held his wand steadily, a stream of silver vapour poured from his wand tip, building upon itself to form a translucent bear-sized dog. He continued to think his message into the creature,  _Voldemort is targeting James specifically, he wants something from the Potter vault and thinks James will give whatever it is to him if he tortures Lily – Voldemort is right, James will do whatever he asks if Lily is threatened. It seems important to keep whatever he wants away from him – anything that makes Voldemort happy can't be good for us, right?"_

Sirius stopped there, and the great transparent dog blinked up at him, then his tongue rolled out and he began to pant happily, he had the message. "Only give it to Dumbledore if he's alone," Sirius said aloud. His patronus gave a little yip that did not match his hulking size and then streaked off through the closed door. Sirius breathed out, he didn't know if he was over or under reacting. The effects of the hangover potion meant he was indecisive, it felt as though he was forgetting something, or that Regulus's last comment about something more going on was significant in a way Sirius couldn't quite grasp.

He pulled his mirror from his jacket pocket, deciding to do the responsible thing and check on James while he waited for a reply from Dumbledore. "James Potter," he said quickly.

The reflection showed nothing but crumpled fabric at first, but then it was pulled down to reveal the scrunched up face of his friend. "Padfoot, what?" James whined, "It's way too early to be awake on New Year's morning."

"Sorry." Sirius grinned, seeing James safe put it in perspective a little. They were all in danger really, the security was strong at James's flat, he'd be fine while he was at home, he would just need to be careful. "Are you going out today?"

"God no, be lucky if I make it out of bed to be honest. How are you feeling?"

"Like I had Hudson's," Sirius said smugly.

"Stoned then," James teased good-naturedly. "Nah, Lils and I will be having a day in." Suddenly he drew a breath and looked away from Sirius, and a tiny lecherous smirk appeared on his face. He didn't really met Sirius's eyes as he said distractedly, "See you at the meeting tomorrow, eh Pads?" There was a suggestive rustling of bedcovers out of range of the mirror. Lily was obviously awake too.

"Rabbits," Sirius called affably in farewell, as James cut the connection, Sirius finally grateful for James and Lily's epic shag schedule. James wouldn't even leave the flat for food with Lily in his bed.

He climbed the staircase quickly and closed and warded his front door. Before he'd even stowed his wand again a bright white and enormous spectral bird came swooping silently through the glass of the sitting room windows, Dumbledore's reply.

The ghostly phoenix perched on the back of the sofa and folded its broad wings in snugly, then turned its sharp beak in Sirius's direction.  _"I'm on my way to him now,"_  it spoke in Dumbledore's reassuring voice,  _"he will be perfectly safe now that we are forewarned. You are quite correct, whatever Voldemort desires should be kept from him whenever possible. Keeping your own head down until we know more about this would also be prudent."_  The bird stretched its wings wide as if to take flight, but then looked back at Sirius to say,  _"A very Happy New Year to you Sirius."_  Then it did flap its eerie wings and soar back out through the window.

Sirius let out a great sigh, so relieved that for once they were the ones with inside information. He experienced the very bizarre feeling of being glad for the first time in his life that he was a Black, it gave him the merest bit of hope that under the layers of breeding and pureblood fanaticism his little brother had a conscience, however slight and biased it might be. As Sirius headed down the hall to his bedroom he thought that Remus could probably shed some light on Regulus's motives, he was far more insightful than Sirius had ever been.

Sirius promptly forgot this wise reasoning when he entered the room to find Remus scrubbing a towel over his short hair and wearing nothing except an old pair of Sirius's trousers. They gapped a little at the waist but hugged tight across his thighs, and Sirius was taken out of his worry for James, and anger at Regulus for a moment to ponder how unfair it was that Remus had returned from the field fitter than ever. Sirius had never thought of himself as out of shape, quite the opposite in fact, but compared to Remus's new forest hardened body he felt like a spaghetti-limbed fairy.

"You were ages," Remus said, emerging from the towel with mad spiky hair to eye the carrier bag hungrily. His gaze shifted to Sirius's face and as he came closer something eager and excited flickered in his expression, and Sirius, who was forever at sea when it came to predicting Remus on a romantic level, or any level at all if he was honest, was surprised to find himself being kissed.

It was sweet and quick, with a warm palm on his stubbly cheek and the tiniest little puff of Remus's minty breath hitting his lips when they parted, but somehow despite his blurry head from hangover remedy, and the nagging worry that he was left with from the altercation with Regulus, it managed to send his pulse skipping joyfully.

"I'm so glad I'm back," Remus said, as he pulled away, looking anywhere but Sirius's face. Surprisingly, he sounded almost shy; something that he never was with Sirius. Remus was often  _quiet_ , but not because he was nervous to speak, he was just an internal, pensive sort of person. Sirius suspected Remus was suffering the same sort of uncertainty that he himself did when trying express his feelings without coming across like soppy, clichéd Mills and Boon heroine.

The awkwardness seemed to be contagious, because Sirius could not think of a thing to say and was quite sure the heat creeping up his neck to his cheeks was horribly visible. He looked down at his shopping as a distraction, and noticed a rather large stain on the front of his t-shirt that looked a lot like spilled beer.  _This is ridiculous,_  he thought, and managed to grin at Remus.

"Same," he said simply, because standing in his bedroom wearing last night's clothes, while carrying a loaf of bread and overpriced bacon didn't seem like the right time for declarations of emotion. Although, when the emotions were for a bloke, perhaps bacon was more appropriate than traditional wooing props like flowers or chocolates. There was also the possibility that he'd had too much Hudson's and was actually a wee bit stoned.

"Breakfast?" he continued, holding up the bag.

"Breakfast." Remus agreed gratefully.

* * *


	9. Part 3: III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd in superwoman style by AdVENTitiious from FF.net

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* * *

During breakfast Sirius had managed to gather his wits enough to tell Remus about Regulus's footpath ambush, and how Voldemort was possibly stalking James, two things that surprised and horrified Remus at first, but then he had agreed that patronusing Dumbledore was about the best they could do. So it was with reasonably clear consciences that they sprawled in the sitting room, full of bacon and lethargic from Hudson's.

Sirius had flopped on the sofa, fiddling with his pack of cigarettes and wondering if lighting one would make the seedy feeling of his hangover return. Remus meanwhile was lying on his front on the floor nearby, a position chosen so that he could be closer to the record player. His knobbly-socked feet kept nudging Sirius in the thigh as they jiggled back and forth to the music, and rather than being annoying, the constant little touches reminded Sirius of their last few months at school, nearly a year ago now, when the pair of them had only been verging on  _something_. Something ignored in Remus's case and repressed in Sirius's.  _Not anymore,_ Sirius thought smugly. Finally it had worked out, no school or war in the way, no one to judge them or gossip, just him and Remus in his flat with the poetically political Stiff Little Fingers for musical company.

"God I've missed this," Remus said happily, echoing Sirius's own contented musing. Remus had dragged Sirius's crate of albums out from the bedroom while Sirius was cooking breakfast. He had then proceeded to spread them all over the floor while he made his decision on listening material. It was such a messily enthusiastic act that Sirius was struggling to restrain the indulgent smile intent on breaking across his face.

"I didn't realise muggle politics were so important to you," Sirius said as he lit his cigarette, deciding that the bacon sandwich had removed him enough from his hangover to smoke.

"I meant this," Remus said, rolling over onto his back and crossing his ankles on the edge of the sofa, his feet were practically in Sirius's lap. He grinned and threw his arms out in illustration. "Doing nothing, lying about,  _carpet_." His smile faded as his hand went to his belly, and he said more seriously, "A full stomach."

"Was it really terrible?" Sirius asked, unable to keep his tone light. He didn't want to make Remus talk about something so depressing when he was feeling so obviously at peace, but he had been imagining all kinds or horror befalling Remus for the last six months. "I mean you don't look like you've been starving," Sirius added, enviously eyeing the way the worn wool of Remus's tatty cardigan had to stretch across his shoulders these days.

Remus looked rather pleased with the complement. "Nah, not starving, definitely no bacon though. Mutton mostly, just because it was easy to pinch an old sheep once every few weeks from isolated paddocks." He twitched his broad shoulders up as if livestock thievery was a piece of cake. "Veggies too whenever we could," he continued, "but we couldn't take too much from farmers' winter stores, too easy to get noticed. I ate more mushrooms than I've ever have in my life." He seemed to grimace at the thought. "If I never see one again I'll be happy."

"So is that it?" Sirius asked, making a face as he ashed his smoke, "mutton and wild mushrooms? Eww." It was weird, Sirius thought, that the extremely moral Remus didn't mind stealing from people.

Remus shook his head. "No, Caradoc normally brought potatoes, or rice, stuff that filled us up nicely, it's really not a terrible life for a short time."

"If you say so," Sirius said, doubtfully. He himself would quite happily choose a cheeseburger over salad, but six months of no greens seemed pretty unappealing.

"I wouldn't want to do it again," Remus agreed. "I really don't know what information Dumbledore expected me to find, Greyback kept everything to himself." He sighed.

"That sucks," Sirius said, but he couldn't find it in his heart to be upset that Remus's mission had failed, if it hadn't he would still be out there among the undergrowth, instead of lounging on Sirius's sitting room floor, looking at ease and stupidly sexy for a man in ill-fitting trousers and a worn out cardi.

Remus had picked up the cover of  _In the City_ , it was turned on its side so he could look at the photos in the fold-out insert. "I told you in my letters," he said from behind it, "Greyback's much cleverer than I was led to believe. The pack definitely fears him, but there is respect too." He paused for a second, thinking as he inspected a black and white crowd shot at the Odin. "I think it's because  _he_  never doles out the punishments for not following orders, it's always Scabior or Brathiad doing the heavy work, so from the outside Greyback seems almost a fair leader, he just has unfortunately violent generals."

It sounded like a pretty efficient system to Sirius, then he remembered how beat up Remus had been when he'd arrived at Headquarters yesterday afternoon, it was easy to forget when he was now so healthy thanks to Dorcas. "Was it them that got you?" Sirius asked quietly, "This Scabior and Brathiad?"

"Nah," Remus said, tilting the album down to look at Sirius, his voice tightened when he continued. "I was a special case," he said, "Greyback himself had a pretty good go."

"Why?" Sirius asked, trying not to sound too horrified, even though the offhand way Remus referred to what had obviously been a pretty sound beating was a little chilling.

Remus's lips twisted regretfully, and he went back to examining the record sleeve. "I probably shouldn't say, you're not supposed to know any of this…"

"You weren't supposed to be writing to me either," Sirius countered quickly, annoyed that Remus wasn't even looking at him. There was no way he was going to let this be downplayed.

"Exactly," Remus said, still to the record, "it's really -" Sirius leaned off the couch and snatched the album cover out of Remus's hands, tossing it towards the half-empty crate so that he could fix Remus with a stubborn stare. After a moment Remus crossed his arms and huffed, but there was amusement in the sound. "I have no willpower," he complained in the direction of the ceiling, then he sat up and met Sirius's eyes properly. "What do you know about Aconite?"

"I know its flowers are an ingredient in Wideye," Sirius said at once, and Remus looked both impressed and surprised that Sirius knew this. "Dorcas uses it for concussions." He grinned ruefully. "I've had my fair share of those this year."

"You're right," Remus said, and Sirius caught a brief look of concern before he kept on with his story. "Aconite is also called Wolfsbane, and its leaves are really poisonous, but there have been rumours that a potioneer working for Voldemort has discovered a way to distil it, that it in a liquid form it can calm a werewolf at full moon completely."

Sirius felt his mouth fall open; this was amazing, even if it was in Voldemort's control now, he couldn't keep it a secret forever. "A cure for lycanthropy?" he said in awe, it would change Remus's life for ever.

"Not a complete cure," Remus said, warily, "and honestly I don't even know whether to believe it at all. Something that seems too good to be true usually is." Sirius could see that Remus was carefully avoiding getting his hopes up, sensible as always. "But anyway," Remus went on, "like the flowers, the roots of the Aconite plant help sharpen the mind, but instead of waking you up from unnatural sleep like Dorcas uses them, if you chew the roots when fresh it keeps you alert."

"Really?" Sirius said interestedly, as he stubbed out his half-smoked cigarette, he wasn't as hangover free as he thought after all. "Could have done with that during  _N.E.W.T.s_."

"That's what I thought when Caradoc told me about it." Remus grinned. "I wondered why no one had heard of it before. It's just because it's so hard to find, growing only in the wildest of places that it's not really practical as a stimulant."

"But what does this have to do with the wolves though?" Sirius couldn't see how a more wakeful werewolf would be good for anyone.

"Well, it turns out that it helps keep a  _human_  mind alert through anything. Even inside a werewolf during the full moon, if it's fresh and chewed in the hours before the moon comes up the wolf doesn't get quite as strong of a hold as usual, I could almost reason with him, almost."

"That's …" Sirius was a bit lost for words. "It's a miracle Rem," he said softly. "Did Caradoc bring it all the time?"

"As much as he could." Remus nodded. "I shared it with anyone I could trust to keep it secret, and it certainly helped reduce the full moon violence. Greyback didn't find out how I was getting the others on my side, but he knew I was the reason more and more were choosing to stay in the lock up on full moon."

"The lock up?" Sirius repeated, imagining some sort of Tarzan-esque jail made of branches and lashed together with hanging vines.

"Most of the wolves plan all month to stay at camp on full moon, and the few with wands ward an area to keep us in so people don't get bitten, but as the moon grows their resolution to stay wavers and they would run off before the wards went up in search of Greyback, or the nearest human. We were normally secluded enough that they wouldn't find anyone, but sometimes they did, it was always awful the next day, poor chaps, knowing what they'd done. If Greyback found out he would praise them for succeeding in their true purpose, it was nauseating."

Sirius quite agreed. "I can't believe this plant has been out there forever and no one realised it could benefit werewolves."

"It is a relatively new discovery, but that's because there is very little research done on helping wolves, you know that."

Sirius did know, he and James had spent months of their second year researching ways to ease their friend's suffering as soon as they discovered he was a werewolf.

"On the other hand, the books on destroying werewolves could fill libraries," Remus said bitterly, "but Dumbledore says Voldemort's research isn't so much about helping us, apparently it's more focused on controlling the wolves, for use in battle, no doubt…."

Sirius let out a heavy breath. "That's really not all that surprising though is it?"

"No," Remus said sadly. "It might backfire on them though if my experience means anything. Because when most of the pack were chewing Aconite they wanted to fight less, that's hardly useful in a war. It also meant that Greyback lost a bit of his control over them when they weren't quite so trapped in their own bloodlust filled minds. More and more could stick to their decision to stay in the lock up, Greyback didn't know why they were staying back, just that since I'd arrived he'd lost his hold on them."

"And that's why he went for you?" Sirius surmised. "He thought you were a threat?"

"Yep," Remus said, he looked guilty, "I wasn't planning on abandoning my mission, but I knew I needed proper healing and I wasn't willing to die to keep my cover."

"Fair enough," Sirius said faintly, his stomach lurched at the mention of the severity of Remus's injuries. He hadn't known they'd been that bad. He personally would be willing to die for a very small handful of causes, and gaining vague information for Dumbledore certainly wasn't one of them, so he didn't blame Remus for breaking cover and coming home.

"I'm worried about some of them though, without me there," Remus said, "I told you that Rhiannon got into a fight not long before I left, with Brathiad because they were trying to work the others up?"

"You did, is she a good friend?" Sirius asked, slightly envious of the unknown Rhiannon and all the time she'd got to spend with Remus.

"Yeah, she's a bit overdramatic," Remus said fondly, "but generally decent, I don't think she's coping well without the Aconite though."

"Caradoc said last night that some of the pack had left, will they be looking for you to get more?"

"Told you that did he?" Remus frowned. "He really shouldn't have … but I shouldn't be talking about this either so …"

Sirius didn't want to get Caradoc in trouble. "He just said a few of them had broken away. Nothing specific."

"Well, you're right, it's her, Rhiannon and her boys, and a couple of others from what Caradoc could figure out. I don't know if they'll come looking for me, they're pretty ingrained forest dwellers, London would terrify them. I'd say they just wanted to get away from Greyback and took an opportunity that presented itself."

"Oh… you were  _close_ to her though?" Sirius asked before he could stop himself, he really hadn't meant the question to sound so accusing, he didn't really even know where it came from.

Remus gave Sirius an affronted look. "She's female," he said shortly.

Sirius wasn't sure what to make of that, Remus had dated girls at school … or one at least, but the scowl on Remus's face suggested that he wouldn't touch a woman if his life depended on it. Sirius dallied for a moment before beginning tentatively, "So you only like …?"

"Men," Remus finished sharply. "Christ Pads, that's what gay means."

"You never said you were gay!" Sirius spluttered in defence.

"I rather thought it was implied," Remus said disbelievingly. "Kissing a man." He gestured in Sirius's direction, and then his hand dropped to indicate Sirius's groin. "Enjoying cock…"

Sirius snickered, unable to help himself. "Sorry." He snorted, there was just something hilarious about Remus saying a vulgar word like cock in such haughty voice.

Remus was clearly insulted, and that seemed to drag the humour out of the situation. "Sorry," Sirius said again, seriously this time. "I've come to the conclusion that I must be bi, it's not like I ever struggled to enjoy screwing girls, I thought you were the same."

Remus's annoyance seemed to fade, and he shook his head. "Nope."

"But you went out with Lily's friend Mary for ages," Sirius said, remembering the girl's name at last.

"At James's request," Remus said, "he thought it would help him get to know Lily."

"He's an idiot," Sirius muttered. "I know you kissed her though, Veronica told me, said Mary raved about your prowess." To Sirius's delight Remus turned bright pink.

"Sod off," Remus said, prodding Sirius sharply in the leg with his still propped up feet. "I'm a good friend, I was doing it for James. I'd only had one kiss I'd enjoyed before you dragged me into the loo on the train, and it certainly wasn't with Mary."

Sirius felt his jaw drop, " _What?_ " Sirius remembered being surprised when Remus had instigated their kiss on the train, having had the preconception that well behaved prefects didn't go kissing blokes in the loo … the very thought that Remus had secrets about this made Sirius's chest itch. But then Remus started to laugh, and Sirius's jealously pounding heart calmed a little, "Okay, very funny," he said.

"I wasn't joking," Remus said, sitting up from the floor, his eyebrows raised at Sirius's reaction. "I'd hate you to think I was some blushing virgin."

Something in the atmosphere changed as Remus finished speaking, he'd gone from annoyed to teasing, and now the unflinching look he gave Sirius was downright suggestive.

"Then who did you kiss?" Sirius asked, leaning forward, jealousy mixing with a more preferable emotion as he resisted the urge to squirm under the close scrutiny, or to acknowledge that Remus was able to give him an inappropriate hard on with nought but a look.

"I'm not telling," Remus said, having moved closer, he was kneeling right in front of Sirius now, and smiling a dirty little grin. His hands sat atop Sirius's knees, and the rapid pulse of jealousy inside him melted slightly as Remus's hands slid forwards, the full length of Sirius's thighs. Remus leaned in with the movement, and was now close enough that Sirius could pull him in for a kiss. So he did.

Without breaking lip contact Remus managed to climb onto the couch, straddling Sirius and kissing back so fervently that Sirius cracked his head on the hard frame of the sofa. The pain seemed minimal though when Remus's hands were everywhere, slipping inside his clothes, brushing temptingly over his bare skin. There were rough lips at his throat, and the dancing pound of arousal began to fog his mind more with each resounding beat. Then Remus's quiet voice was in his ear, "I think I owe you one for last night."

Remus was already working open Sirius's flies as he spoke, obviously not needing Sirius's half-gurgled permission as he slid from the couch to the floor. He pushed aside the cotton of Sirius's boxers, and his fingers were warm as they closed around the base of Sirius's strident erection.

Sirius wondered if this was what people meant about out of body experiences, because try as he might, he couldn't remember how to move, he was frozen in anticipation as Remus's lips came closer to the head of his cock. Sirius'd been sucked off plenty of times before, but at school it had been in secluded corners or closets, normally dark, generally unappealing, and always hurried. Those adolescent fumblings couldn't have been more different to this, relaxed on his couch, in his own sitting room, the full light of a blustery winter noon falling across the pair of them, being able to watch Remus stretch his lips over the now glistening tip, it was so much more enjoyable.

It only took one slick sucking slide for Sirius to realise that this was nothing like any blow job he'd had before, Remus's mouth was so hot and so tight that Sirius couldn't control the groan that left him on the first descent. But then, as Remus pulled back he fluttered his tongue firmly, and Sirius thought he was dying. Being slowly murdered by the overwhelming pleasure of having his cock sucked so beautifully. Absently he wondered where Remus had learnt such a skill, but in his euphoric state there was only room for the magic pressure-pull-pressure that surrounded his cock, so he didn't dwell on it for long. Remus began to move faster, somehow managing to increase the suction and ratcheting Sirius's intangible orgasm from slow building to dangerously close without warning.

"Rem," he said urgently, and Remus opened his eyes. "I'm gonna –"

But Remus just hummed and bobbed his head so deeply that Sirius felt the back of throat, then he swallowed, and the constriction did it, Sirius came with a rush, and the powerful chasing wave that followed momentarily obliterated everything.

"Merlin Moony," he said hoarsely, after a minute, "that was –" He opened his eyes to see Remus still crouched between his knees and smiling rather proudly.

Affection blossomed in Sirius's chest, and he pounced, knocking Remus back onto the floor, Remus all but squawked in surprise. Sirius attacked with eager lips and a grateful tongue while he tried to work up the courage to return the favour. He was quite frightened that he would realise mid blowie that he wasn't bent enough, even if the idea was desperately appealing at this moment. His hand on Remus's prick was one thing, it was so similar to wanking that it was easy to adapt to, but a cock in his mouth? There would be no pretending after that.

* * *


	10. Part 3: IV

Feeling valiant and noble – and like a total idiot for doubting himself – Sirius swallowed his bitter, salty mouthful.

Remus lay on the carpet flushed and dazed with his trousers gaping. His left hand was still gripping Sirius's forearm from a moment ago when he'd seized it in an incoherent expression of passion. Sirius just sort of stared, brim-full of a strange but pleasant reverence for this new side of his old friend.

Fortunately Sirius's internal romantic nonsense was interrupted by a quick little knock on the front door. Remus jolted upright and his abrupt movement gave Sirius more of a fright than the person knocking at the door.

"Who's that?" Remus asked, wriggling about to get his trousers refastened. He shot a concerned glance at the door as he struggled with his zipper.

"Dunno," Sirius said, finding it difficult to shift his gaze from Remus at all, and not able to be too worried about anything, even though he had plenty of reasons to be. He clambered to his feet feeling light-headed and clumsy, in the very best way, and grabbed his wand from the sofa cushions before heading to the door. His front door let directly into the sitting room, and Remus hurried to haul himself up onto a chair and look casual despite his disarranged clothes, pink cheeks and slightly drowsy eyes.

Sirius smiled privately to himself, thrilled to have had such an effect.

The visitor knocked again, and Sirius held his wand at the ready as he opened the door a crack.

His caution proved unnecessary, out in the hall with hands shoved deep in the pockets of his muggle parka stood Caradoc. "Moody finally got through to you eh?" he said at once, eyeing Sirius's wand. It had obviously been raining wherever he'd apparated from because his jacket was speckled with darker spots and he still had the hood up. Cold too by the look of him Sirius thought, Caradoc's lips pale and his cheeks ruddy. His blond hair was poking out at all angles from beneath the hood.

"Enviable vigilance there mate," he said, upbeat as ever, even when being ironic. "I promised I'd fill you in on the developments from last night, thought I'd drop by on my way home."

"Oh that's –" Sirius began, his heart sinking, for the first time in months he wasn't glad to see the guy. He didn't want to share his time with Remus, even if he did want to know what was happening with the wolves that were mentioned last night.

"Have you heard from your mate?" Caradoc continued on, as if he could read minds. "I was meant to talk to him too, but buggered if I know where to find him now, no one knows where he lives."

"Remus? Yeah he's here," Sirius said, deciding that perhaps it could just be a quick visit, they probably should know if hungry homeless werewolves were nearby. He stepped back to let Caradoc in.

"Not feeling too rough after last night then?" Caradoc asked, as he pulled his parka over his head. Beneath it was a thick knitted jumper with a high collar, that made him look even more solidly muscled than usual. Sirius wondered if he'd been out in the weather all night. Caradoc tossed his jacket on the arm of the sofa, then he sat and grinned at Remus. "You look better," he observed, "not so twitchy."

Remus shook his head. "Definitely not," he agreed, determinedly not looking at Sirius. Sirius hid his smirk, nothing like having your dick sucked to relax you. "Just glad to be home to tell you the truth," he continued, getting to his feet, "Do you both want tea?"

"Oh yeah, that would be great," Caradoc said appreciatively. Sirius sat on the sofa beside him, bemused to be offered a drink in his own home, and getting the impression that Remus just wanted to leave the room.

"Where're the other two?" Caradoc asked, looking around the sitting room. Remus's old tea mug was on the floor beside the record player and Sirius's was balanced on the arm of the sofa near him, there were still records scattered over the rug, but Remus had switched the music for the much more mellow Jam.

"Other two what?" Sirius asked, feeling like he'd missed something.

Caradoc waved his hand in the direction of Remus's clinking and the sound of water running in the kitchen. "Potter, and Petticoat, everyone says the four of you were inseparable at school."

"Pettigrew." Sirius corrected, automatically. Caradoc had called Pete Petticoat since the first time they'd spoken, Sirius got the impression he didn't like Pete very much, or more likely found him a bit dull, but was unwilling to say anything against him because of Sirius's friendship. "James is at his flat, with Lily. And Pete is probably having his hangover nursed better by his mum if she's feeling up to it. Why?"

"I just thought you must have all crashed here –"

"Nah, just Moony."

Remus re-entered the room then, having miraculously found a tea tray and large pot in Sirius's lacking kitchen. He'd brought the glass milk bottle and torn lidded box of sugar cubes though, rather than decanting to jug or bowl. He also had a mug for Caradoc. He put the tray down on top of the upturned record crate and sat down in his chair.

"Thanks," Caradoc and Sirius said in unison. Sirius sent Remus an apologetic look, feeling like the interruption of their time together was his fault, even though Caradoc wanted to speak to Remus too. But Remus smiled and shook his head the smallest amount as if to say, 'it's fine.'

Caradoc caught the end of this little exchange, and looked between them suspiciously. Then he let out a short little laugh. "Oh riiight," he said, as if to himself. He poured his tea and sloshed a bit of milk into his mug and sat back against the sofa without further explanation. "Can't believe I missed that," he muttered, sounding genuinely surprised.

There was a sudden nervy flip in Sirius's belly as he realised that they were rumbled.  _Of course Caradoc would see it in a second,_  Sirius thought heavily. He'd somehow known of Sirius's inclinations without it even being spoken of. But before Sirius could deny it, or even decide if he wanted to deny it, because it wasn't like Caradoc of all people was going to be offended, Remus spoke.

"I only stayed here last night because my folks don't know I'm back yet," he said quickly, "my mother would have locked me up if she'd seen the state I was in when I got back to Headquarters, and I couldn't have just popped in and said hi and then left to go to the pub after six months away… that would be very rude."

"Oh right," Caradoc said again, with a completely different inflection, clearly amused by the lie. "You know you're an adult right? Your ma can't make you stay home."

"Have you met Remus?" Sirius asked with a forced grin, as he crushed down the tiny disappointment that Remus was so fast to conceal their relationship. It was so stupid, Sirius didn't want to tell anyone anyway! Caradoc was still looking bemusedly between the pair of them. "He'd rather be Crucio'd than commit the crime of intentional rudeness." Sirius expanded.

Remus raised an eyebrow. "No need to exaggerate, Pads." But then he seemed to think about it for a second anyway. "A well-placed stinging hex perhaps." He decided.

Sirius laughed properly, and Remus looked mildly embarrassed by his confession but shrugged it off as he asked Caradoc, "So what about Rhi? Did you find them?"

"Not yet," Caradoc said, "the trail went cold at the Wye in Wales, their tracks were clear as anything and then nothing discernable for miles in either direction on the opposite bank."

"Surely they wouldn't have stayed in the water too long," Remus said doubtfully, "even if it would throw off anyone trying to follow, it's too bloody freezing."

"That's what I thought," Caradoc agreed enthusiastically. "More like Rhiannon has got them covering their tracks. She's too clever by half."

"Is it just the boys with her?"

"No there were at least five in the group I was tracking," Caradoc replied, "like I said, it was easy, even with a bleary head and in the half-light this morning." Sirius wondered how he was able to tell anything at all from marks in the dirt. "They were definitely opting for speed over concealment," Caradoc added.

"And you think they're coming here?" Sirius said worriedly, just as Remus asked, "Any sign of Scabior or Brathiad following them?"

Caradoc answered Remus's question. "Nah, I was the only one, I think they were only a couple of hours ahead of me, and I don't think they'll come looking for you either," he said and with a glance at Sirius added, "They'd be better off to go up north and hide."

"They'll be going to France if Quinn has anything to say about it." Remus said grimly, "Poor kid reckoned his family would take him back in in a heartbeat if only he could reach them."

"The same family who left him to be raised by Greyback?"

"Yep." Remus seemed suddenly bleak. "I guess it's probably better for him to imagine that than know the reality."

"There would be logic in going to the continent…" Caradoc said, ponderingly, "much bigger forests to hide in, and if they got far enough south even the winter wouldn't be too nasty."

Remus shook his head. "They have no money for passage."

Sirius frowned. "Some of them have wands though? Why can't they just side-along? Dover to Calais is a pretty short jump."

"Pads, most of them were bitten before they came of age, most never had an apparition lesson, let alone passed the test, they live a pretty non-magical life."

"Oh." Sirius felt a little foolish for not realising this in the first place.

"Well whatever they do I'm sure Dumbles will be expecting me to find out," Caradoc put in.

"Probably," Remus said, sitting forward in his chair to pour another cup of tea, "I hope I get to do some normal Order stuff now."

"Plenty of deathly dull hedges that possibly have Death Eater hideouts behind them that need watching," Sirius said. He held out his cup for a refill too, and Remus obliged, even scraping a sugar cube in half so Sirius could have his tea just right.

"I'll see what Moody can rustle up for you," Caradoc said, still nursing his half-full mug in cold looking hands.

"Thanks. I should probably be heading off soon anyway," Remus said, as he sat back again. "Mum and Dad will be pretty pleased to know I'm back."

Sirius took his drink back from the makeshift table, realising that he didn't know what Mr and Mrs Lupin had been told about Remus's absence. "Where do they think you've been?"

"Ironically, in France, at the Wizarding University near Avignon. I'll just say I decided to come home for the winter break after all."

This was an oddly cruel cover story in Sirius's opinion. Remus had spoken often of his desire to further his education after Hogwarts, but no university would take a werewolf, even with his stellar exam marks. Sirius knew he'd even considered Muggle University, some magically forged A Levels and University Entrance would have done the trick. But that was before Voldemort had gotten a serious hold on wizarding Britain. All other plans were put on hold when Dumbledore had offered them a place in the Order of the Phoenix.

* * *

The moment the door closed behind Remus Caradoc turned to Sirius and shoved him hard in the shoulder. Sirius stumbled a few steps, unprepared because he'd been too busy dwelling on the fact that Remus had not said when he would be back, though at least he'd seemed reluctant to leave, dawdling for at least another half hour before he finally set off..

"I can't believe you didn't tell me!" Caradoc said indignantly, "Here I am passing love letters like a giant twat."

"I can't believe you didn't figure it out for yourself," Sirius said, righting himself, "and they weren't  _love_  letters, we were mates first, for seven years."

"That's why I didn't guess!" Caradoc said, "Actually, I reckon being gay blinds me a bit, people seem to think we have a secret way of knowing whether a guy is queer or not, but I don't, any blokes that seem a bit too close I immediately wonder if they're shagging, but I've been proved wrong so often I tend to ignore it now."

Sirius supposed that made sense. "But you knew I was," he said, remembering their early conversations back in October, "am I that obvious?"

"No …" Caradoc sat back down and hid his smirk in his tea cup. "Well, maybe to me."

"What is  _that_  supposed to mean?" Sirius demanded, remaining standing as a prickle of guilt made itself known in his stomach.

Caradoc shrugged. "As a general rule when a bloke gives me the glad-eye it means he's bent."

"I haven't!" Sirius defended at once, feeling distinctly warm in the face, because the minute he said it he knew it wasn't quite true.

"There's nothing wrong with looking, you great queen," Caradoc said, rolling his eyes at Sirius's embarrassment. "You're such a prude. Even my old ma used to say 'it doesn't matter where you get your appetite as long as you eat at home.' I don't think Remus would mind, one of the benefits of same sex relationships…" He wiggled his eyebrows lewdly. "You can perve together."

"Right," Sirius grumbled, taking his seat once more, "Merlin, you really know how to make me feel like an old woman."

"How flattering," Caradoc said sardonically.

"No, I mean you just say whatever you want." Sirius let out a heavy breath. He doubted half his acquaintances from school would even recognise this uncertain person he'd become, because he was nothing like the swaggering self-assured Sirius Black who'd entered that toilet on the Hogwarts Express. He looked back at Caradoc. "I used to be like that…" he said, more mournfully than he'd meant to.

Caradoc nodded his head in understanding. "Bit hard to be confident when there are only a couple people who know you're queer, it's a big part of you that's hidden away."

"Nah…" Sirius disagreed, "it's not that." He didn't know how to articulate that it had been his growing depression over Remus's absence – and mortal peril – that made him feel so different. He'd never worried about anything so much in his life. It was more difficult to get his head around the connotations of that, than whether or not he should be telling people he swung both ways. "I've never been in a  _relationship_  before." He tried to explain, feeling like an idiot. "My stupid luck that the first time I decide to give it a go he leaves on a dangerous mission less than twenty four hours later."

"I love how you manage to make relationship sound like a dirty word."

"Scary fucking word more like." Sirius chuckled. "Never would have thought." He shrugged, overwhelmed by the situation and wishing that his marijuana-laced hangover juice wasn't wearing off. "Anyway, the whole coming out thing isn't really a big deal. James is the only one whose opinion I care about, and he thinks I'm shagging you, and wasn't too fussed, and it's not like I'm going to be out at gay clubs dressed in leathers anytime soon, or ever…"

"That's a hideous cliché," Caradoc said, but he still smiled. "I didn't mean that being queer is all you are now, just that it does change the way you live. Only because when you date a man things are different, you have to be so conscious of your actions, careful about the places you go together, it sucks, big time, but it's the way it is."

"I'd never really thought about it," Sirius admitted. Because rather than realising he liked blokes in general, Remus had always been the focus of Sirius's sexual confusion, and that made everything so much simpler for him. "It must be hard for you…" He empathised.

Caradoc's serious expression faded as he cocked an eyebrow and smirked. "You know it."

Sirius gave a little snort and jogged Caradoc in the side. "You're terrible." He sighed happily. Caradoc really was an excellent stand in for James. He never failed to cheer Sirius up.

Caradoc chuckled, he shook two cigarettes from his packet and lit one, flicking the other in Sirius's direction. "Just like making you blush to be honest," he said, as he passed over a muggle lighter. He met Sirius's eyes for a moment, and a curious little flicker registered briefly before he blinked and looked away again.

Sirius lit his cigarette, not able to shake the feeling there was something more behind Caradoc's words at that moment, he knew him well enough now. He was always a flirt, but there was a difference this afternoon, he was watching the smoke curl from the end of his cigarette and he looked uncharacteristically sad. His knee brushed against Sirius's as he leaned forward to pick up one of the many record sleeves still strewn across the rug.

"This is a great album," he said, holding up the black and white cover of Sham 69's latest so Sirius could see, "I saw them you know, last year, they're fucking ace live. My ears were ringing for days."

"They're pretty brilliant," Sirius said, grateful not to have to mention the moment of awkwardness. "Was that in London? Me and James snuck out from his parents and went to their show in Manchester. Pretty rough crowd, but totally worth it."

"I forget you're so young." Caradoc tossed the record back onto the rug, scanning the others for something interesting.

"'Cause you're such a wise old man," Sirius scoffed, even though it was nice to know he didn't seem like a kid, despite feeling like one half the time.

"I'll be twenty five in March," Caradoc said, pulling a face. "I remember when I left Hogwarts I thought  _twenty_  seemed old, twenty five was practically ancient!" Sirius shrugged to show he didn't really care how old Caradoc was, he treated Sirius like an equal, that was good enough for him. "I don't feel any older at all," Caradoc went on, "just like I've seen more terrible stuff than I had before."

"Merlin you're right about that," Sirius agreed. "I thought the worst thing about joining the Order was going to be the fighting, knowing I could die at any moment you know? But it's not, as soon as the adrenalin's gone I forget that fear." Sirius paused, slightly nervous to admit his anxiety, but Caradoc just flicked his smoke and waited for Sirius to continue, so he did. "It's the dead people that get me," he confessed reluctantly, "it's like they just wait in my head until I'm just about asleep and then they ambush me, it's so disturbing. "

Caradoc nodded solemnly. "That's pretty normal. Edgar's girls are haunting me at the moment, I've never seen a dead kid before…" He looked just as Sirius felt, nauseated by the memory. "Gods it's a lot to ask sometimes, this Order gig," he muttered.

If Sirius had thought that admitting his unease would make it easier to bear, he was wrong. Knowing that Caradoc still suffered the same issues after four years in the Order – he was one of the first recruits – made Sirius feel worse. He'd hoped he would become used to it after a while, as gruesome an idea as that was.  _Used_  to seeing people he knew and respected murdered, often brutally attacked. He thought about what Remus had said back in the summer the night before he left for the field. Maybe they should just move to France, leave England to sort its own shit out… but what if Voldemort won? Wankers like Sirius's parents would be in charge then. He couldn't have that.

"Gotta do it though right?" Sirius said heavily.

"Yep," Caradoc said slowly, he took a drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke out in a low depressing whistle. "We'd have to get a real job otherwise."

"I wonder about that sometimes," Sirius said, as he reached out for Remus's empty mug to use as an ashtray. "What I would have done if there wasn't a war on."

"Lived a toff's life of leisure no doubt," Caradoc quipped at once, obviously sick of the disheartening conversation and aiming to lighten the mood. "Squandering your inheritance on smoking jackets and crystal stemware."

"I do love a good champagne flute," Sirius said, trying his best to emulate the sort of straight faced delivery Remus always seemed to pull off, but failed as he started to laugh. "Smoking jackets? Is that what you think the upper-class spend their money on?"

Caradoc laughed at his own joke too. "Buggered if I know, aren't they just a posh bathrobe?"

"Pretty much," Sirius said, "though with more tassels, my father had several. Didn't even smoke – should have called it his drinking-whiskey-and-shouting-at-Sirius jacket.

"That's depressing," Caradoc said with a sympathetic wince.

"Sorry, I forget people have parents who aren't complete bastards." Sirius grimaced, he hated to be pitied.

Caradoc seemed to understand this without being told. "You poor dear," he said, patting Sirius's knee patronisingly, and then added with mock sincerity, "no doubt you're a mess of emotional hang-ups and mummy issues."

"Absolutely riddled," Sirius said as seriously as he was able, "Thankfully I'm very good at repressing it."

Caradoc toasted him with his tea dregs and a curling lip. "A true British gentleman."

Sirius laughed as he stubbed his fag, and it hissed as it hit the tiny pool of liquid in the bottom of Remus's mug.

"So what's happening with Remus?" Caradoc asked out of the blue. "Is he living here until he goes back?"

 _Goes back?_  Sirius's heart seemed to stop dead and then kick up double time in a space of a second. "I don't think he is going back," he said, struggling to keep his voice steady.

Caradoc was oblivious to this minor meltdown. "His cover is still good," he said casually, "Greyback doesn't like him, but he doesn't think he's a spy either. So he could go back…" He trailed off, leaving Sirius with the most revolting sinking feeling.

 _It was supposed to be over,_  Sirius thought, trying to stay calm. Remus was home, he'd left the pack with a violent dismissal, surely Dumbledore wouldn't send him back. It would be too risky, they could lose the trust of all the wolves if he was outed as a spy, he would be in so much danger. Not to mention that Sirius would lose his fucking mind.

Unexpectedly, the sofa cushion beneath Caradoc suddenly spoke, its voice was muffled but loud in the quiet room. "Sirius Black?" it said, intruding on Sirius's rapidly building panic.

"What the fuck?!" Caradoc exclaimed, jumping sideways in fright. This reaction made Sirius chuckle despite his internal breakdown, and he reached under the cushion for his two-way mirror. It must have slipped from his jacket pocket when he'd discarded it during breakfast.

Caradoc looked on warily as Sirius rubbed the glass surface on his t-shirt to rid it of sofa tobacco and toast crumbs.

"Hey Prongs," Sirius said when the mirror was clean. Out the corner of his eye he could see Caradoc's impressed face, the two-way mirror was a pretty rare and useful thing to own.

"Who's swearing?" James asked, he sounded tetchy and glum, and Sirius didn't really need to wonder why. Dumbledore had been to visit, he'd probably given James orders to stay at home.

"Oh it's just Caradoc." Sirius grinned. "He thought the sofa was talking to him, jumped a mile."

"Are you at headquarters then?" James said, he frowned up at Sirius. "I thought you were off today."

"I am, we're at my place."

"Oh right," James said, this information only seemed to increase his bad mood. "Well if you can take a moment away from your  _boyfriend_ , I've got some pretty shit news."

"He's not my boyfriend," Sirius said, shocked by the nastiness in James's voice, "and I know about your news."

"You do? Dumbledore said it was a tip off, that he's only just got it."

"Yeah, from me," Sirius said. He'd assumed Dumbledore would tell James everything. "It was Regulus, he was outside my flat this morning, waiting to warn me. For my sake of course, but thank Merlin he did right?"

" _You_  told Dumbledore and got me taken off duty?"

"Well, I guess, but I was more worried about you getting killed and shit," Sirius shot back, surprised to bear the brunt of James's anger. He had a right to be annoyed at the situation.  _But not at me,_  Sirius thought furiously. "I told Dumbledore because he's in charge we need all the information we can get right?" Sirius tried, a bit more calmly.

James looked righteously pissed. "Not when it gets me locked in my house!"

"Prongs mate, think about it - are you saying you want to be a specific target every time we're out and about? Reg said that the orders were to capture you and kill anyone with you on sight."

"They're always trying to kill us anyway," James snapped.

"No, actually, it turns out they're not," Sirius said, ignoring the little stab in his chest caused by James's lack of gratitude or concern for either of their safety. Sirius was going to be the one killed after all. "Regulus said they've been making exceptions for purebloods. Didn't you wonder why they never just AK'd us all those times? They want us left alive. But not anymore. "

James was silent, scowling up out of the glass. "Why didn't you just tell  _me_? Since when do you go running to Dumbledore?"

Sirius felt his eyes widen with incredulity. "Since my best mate is on Voldemort's wanted list. Prongs, don't you get how bad this is?"

"I never thought you'd put rules before our friendship," he murmured angrily.

"Potter, you're being a right tosser about this," Caradoc put in bluntly. "Black did the right thing, you're not just going to get a detention for mucking about with something this. I'd pull my head in if I was you."

James blinked several times, apparently in shock to be told off. "Who does he think he is?" he said eventually.

Caradoc rolled his eyes and made a rude repetitive gesture with forefinger and thumb. "He says you're being a wanker," Sirius said to James, "and he's right. I'm sorry you have to stay in for a bit, but you do have two other options I'm aware of for leaving the house undetected, so maybe just suck it up." James didn't respond so Sirius continued. "Also think about what Voldemort might want in the Potter vault. I really don't want to fight with you, mate."

James all but pouted. "Fine," he said sullenly, "I just didn't expect it to be you. Get me on the mirror later if you have time, I'll be here." James vanished without another word, and Sirius turned to look at Caradoc.

"And you call me a queen," he said in shock. "Bloody hell. He's always been a bit prone to overreaction but that was extreme."

"Teenagers," Caradoc said with a tut. "I better be off anyway. I'm only running on an hour's sleep and too many beers last night are catching up."

"Fair enough," Sirius said, disappointed that he was going to be left alone, no doubt with James's pissed off voice on repeat in his head. Maybe he'd have some more Hudson's.

* * *

It was several hours after Caradoc had gone home that the Lupin family owl came tapping at Sirius's bedroom window to find him. He had decided to spend the afternoon napping because, well, why not?

To Sirius's great relief the old bird carried a short message from Remus that had him breaking out in secret foolish smiles for the rest of the evening.

_Padfoot,_

_All is good at home, will come back to London in a few days – if you'll have me of course. I hope you will … I'd quite like to have you._

_Moony._

 


	11. Part 4: I

**_Muggles Penetrate Diagon Alley- Official Response at last._ **

_Last weeks' scenes of devastation in Diagon Alley are still fresh in the magical community's mind today. Reconstruction has begun, repairing the damage done during the violent riot that broke out in the street last Thursday afternoon. Twenty-five innocent lives were lost when unsuspecting shoppers were attacked with brutal muggle fighting tactics and non-magic weapons. The shops were looted and set ablaze, and the terrified cries of the injured and set-upon wizards and witches will haunt all those present for a long time to come. Minister Bagnold's request for calm cooperation from the public to aid the Ministry investigation has been met with public demand for action and retaliation against the muggle criminals._

_"The magical community has always feared discovery," said Johnathan Wilkes, a spokesman for the Department for Law Enforcement, at the press conference this afternoon, "and we need no further evidence than this. Muggles are not accepting of difference, and they fight amongst themselves for the same reason. Three hundred years ago we went into hiding, we've managed to live peacefully side-by-side with them, but this event illustrates that hiding may not be the wisest course for the safe and prosperous continuation of Wizardkind."_

_Alastor Moody was also in attendance at the Ministry's press address. The Head Auror was characteristically gruff and vague with his facts. ''The criminals responsible for the events in Diagon Alley are yet to be identified. While it seems clear that the perpetrators were muggle, many eyewitness reports state that they lacked any type of emotional reaction to the blatant magical defence from their victims, and that they seemed impervious to any pain caused by this defence. There is clearly more going on here than an old fashioned witch hunt."_

_Wilkes's statements were expounded on by Willard Travers, Director of the Board at St Mungo's Hospital and founder of the charity Wizarding Homes for Wizarding Orphans. He spoke to press outside his London townhouse early this morning. "I am pleased that not all in our government are willing to deal with such a disturbing hate crime in the usual way, personally I think the time of the Obliviator has passed. Modifying muggle memories and removing the terrible things they have done does not help Wizardkind. It just delays the inevitable. In my opinion the actions of the muggles themselves are not the most worrying part of the Diagon Massacre. After all, you cannot blame a bull for charging, or dog for its bite, ill education and animal instinct are the muggles greatest weakness. The true concern is how they got in in the first place, there are traitors among us. Those that walk the line between both worlds must be questioned. Surely disenchanted muggleborns, the people who fit neither muggle nor magic society are behind this atrocity."_

_This accusatory statement has caused furious debate both within the Ministry and without._

_Albus Dumbledore has also weighed in on the subject, although he looked reluctant to speak when this Daily Prophet reporter caught up with him as he left the Ministry after Wizengamot Chambers let out this afternoon. "I would not read the situation as it has been presented," Dumbledore said, "the lives lost and affected by this tragedy are too great to be brushed aside. I have faith that the Ministry and their Aurors will uncover the true culprit, and that it will prove to be yet another attempt by Voldemort to spread discord and distrust within the magical community. Voldemort and his Death Eaters are our enemy, we must not let them confuse us."_

_The wizarding community can do little but wait for the facts while we mourn the loss of the 25 people killed by muggles in the massacre. Caution and common sense are recommended when in contact with muggles, as well as keeping your wand close at hand._

"Christ," Remus said under his breath, sounding quite defeated as Sirius folded the paper in his hand and tossed it at the coffee table. They'd only started reading the  _Prophet_  to have an excuse to sit so close together in the middle of the crowded Order Headquarters, but with such depressing content Sirius was wondering if it was even worth it.

He sat back against the faded sofa and rested his arm along the top of the cushion behind Remus's shoulders, feeling as he did so the slightest movement in Remus's leg where it was pressed full length against Sirius's, hip to thigh, knee to ankle.  _Yes_ , he thought,  _it was worth it_. Because the warmth and solid presence of his just-returned friend seemed to seep through Sirius's jeans, skin, and muscle and settle into his very bones. Remus had finally returned to London that afternoon, after two weeks with his parents.

Pinfold Lane was busy that night due to what was most definitely a Death Eater attack on Diagon Alley. The witnesses to that horrible afternoon all said the muggles were unstoppable, there had even be rumours that they had been Inferi. It was not. However, it did seem pretty clear that the muggles were under the Imperius Curse. But without the caster's wand, or the muggles in question, it was impossible to prove it. Sirius had a horrible feeling that the muggles couldn't be found because Voldemort had disposed of them after they'd served their purpose. But whatever had happened, it had had the one small positive of reinvigorating the Order of the Phoenix's enthusiasm.

There had been a full attendance meeting earlier in the evening, before night watches and surveillance tasks began, and most of the Order had hung around afterward, resulting in the currently packed room. Arabella was popping up all over the place, her camera in hand, snapping photos of the members. They'd all been forced to pose for a group shot directly after the meeting, all stood proper side-by-side like some Quidditch team. It had been taken in the large meeting room that adjoined the parlour. Now it seemed like everywhere Sirius looked people were throwing their arms around each other and pulling silly faces as her flashbulb went off again and again. You'd never know there was a war on he thought. Even Sirius himself didn't feel his usual amount of resentment, having Remus squashed in next to him on the sofa, driving any negative feelings away.

James and Pete were both there too, milling through the crowd in the parlour. There was a noisy game of Death Eater Face Darts going on, and both Pete and James were trying to get people to bet on it. It was good to see Peter, whose mum had demanded he spend Christmas with the family, which had meant a trip to Manchester and being surrounded by midget cousins, poor bugger. James, on the other hand, was always at Headquarters these days, hoping to get a bit of the action, since he was still banned from duty for fear of kidnap and endangering other members' lives. Sirius had been there an awful lot too, though he had been using the place as a distraction from the nervy, yet somehow listless, feeling that occupied his mind and heart while he waited, yet again, for Remus to come back.

If Sirius'd had his way they wouldn't have even been there tonight, he'd planned to drag Remus out of there the minute the meeting had finished, but Dumbledore wanted a word with Remus. So they had to wait around. Dumbledore hadn't had a chance to have a proper conversation with Remus since his return from the field on New Year's Eve, since Remus had to assuage his parents' concern by staying at home for the duration of the Uni holidays. So tonight they were finally able to have their proper post-mission debriefing.

James and Pete returned from their wager rousing in excellent spirits while they were waiting, both with a handful of coins. The Wanted posters on the walls now resembled vertical pincushions, it had obviously been a successful game. Sirius hitched a smile on his face, trying not to look impatient and therefore raise suspicion, as he greeted them.

James perched himself on the sofa arm next to Sirius, and reached out to wave his handful of coins under Sirius's nose as he said, "Look, not a bad haul."

"Your shout then," Sirius said happily, but then regretted it as James's face fell; James wasn't allowed anywhere except Headquarters and home on Dumbledore's strict orders, so the pub was definitely out. Sirius felt guilty for reminding him. "Sorry mate," he said, grimacing.

Lily's ban had been lifted enough that she was allowed out on low risk watch duties or reconnaissance, just not assignments with a high chance of Death Eater contact. She was out that very evening with Marlene, doing something that required specialised charm work. Sirius had been doing his watches with Caradoc since James was benched, Caradoc and Benjy Fenwick hadn't been getting along recently so it was a good change up. Fenwick was partnered with Marlene whenever the mission was too high risk for Lily to go. The Order didn't have the luxury of so many members they could just sideline two competent people for long periods of time. Dumbledore had even said that once they knew a bit more about the 'Potter-problem' James could resume duties under polyjuice. But it wasn't worth the risk just yet.

"It's alright," James said, "I'm getting used to it now. Still shit, but better than death preceded by Crucio."

"That's what I thought," Sirius said, taken aback that James had even made a reference to the cause of their argument on New Year's Day. They still hadn't talked about it, just sort of carried on as normal, if a bit stilted now and then. Sirius was surprised by how much he wanted James to apologise for not understanding he'd acted out of concern for James's life, rather than passing on Regulus's information to Dumbledore to purposely get James locked up.

James looked past Sirius to Remus for a moment, contemplating him pensively. Remus was leaning forward to talk to Pete, who'd balanced his tubby bum on the coffee table in front of the sofa. Remus had commended him on his winnings and was now being filled in on the more skilful dart throwers, Hestia Jones had a wicked aim apparently.

James frowned down at the gold in his hand. "Moony reckons you did the right thing," he said quietly, as not to be overheard, "telling Dumbles what Regulus said I mean, I get that you don't want to be a target for them."

"What? That's not why I told him," Sirius disagreed, glad Remus had stuck up for him, but confused as to why James would think it was for personal safety concerns. "James, my little brother risked a lot to come and warn me that you were in danger.  _Big_  fucking danger." He emphasised. "I don't want you to get captured or tortured or killed, that's why I told Dumbledore."

"Are you sure?" James pressed suspiciously, "You didn't just want an excuse to have a different partner then either?"

"No," Sirius replied firmly, baffled and a bit annoyed by James's bizarre theories. "What does that have to do with it?"

"You and Dearborn," James said shortly, and Sirius sensed the same sound of misplaced betrayal in his voice as the morning they'd argued the first time. He clearly wasn't over it.

"So?" Sirius countered, doing his best not to lose his temper, he was so sick of telling James Caradoc wasn't his boyfriend. It just never seemed to register with him. "I had no idea Dumbledore would stick me with him in your place," Sirius said, trying to explain calmly, "I thought I'd be with MacKinnon to be honest, but since she's all chummy with Fenwick they got to go together. Fenwick and Caradoc have been disagreeing a lot lately, I think it was time for a change for them. That's all."

James didn't accept this sound reasoning, he gave Sirius a doubtful look and said, "Padfoot, do you really think I don't know what it's like when you're first with someone?" He'd adopted a tone of condescension that set Sirius's teeth on edge. "In seventh year I could barely handle going to breakfast without Lily," he paused thoughtfully and then added, "or is that different for queers?"

 _Queers,_ Merlin, was James just trying to piss him off? "Bloody  _hell,_ " Sirius snapped, forgetting where they were as his voice rose in anger, "For the last fucking time, I'm not shagging Caradoc!"

The room fell quiet for a second, and people turned to look in their direction. Sirius half-heartedly tried to restrain himself from flipping the lot of them the bird, and failed. Then Caradoc, the cheeky and unhelpful tosser, decided to put in loudly from across the room, "Your loss Black!" which gained him twitters and eye-rolls all round as everyone went back to their conversations.

Sirius could feel Remus's eyes on him, and he wondered what his actual boyfriend would think about James's comments on Caradoc. Sirius realised then that he hadn't even told Remus that James knew he wasn't straight, or about James's stupid ongoing insistence that Caradoc was his boyfriend. At least Remus would know  _that_  wasn't true.

"Why would Sirius be shagging a bloke?" Peter asked, looking confusedly between Sirius and James.

"Haven't you heard Pete?" Sirius sighed, completely exasperated. "I'm a giant cock-loving fag." He slumped forward and cradled his head in his hands, not wanting to look at Remus and wishing fervently that the stupid subject had never come up. Then, quite unexpectedly, Remus burst out laughing beside him, making the sofa reverberate as he snickered. After a moment James gave a chuckle on his other side and patted his shoulder sympathetically.

After a few minutes where Sirius glared wearily at his knees while his friends all laughed, Remus found his voice. "It's unlike you to be so specific Pads, you were always rather indiscriminate when you were shagging girls." Sirius peered out slant-ways from between his fingers, not quite understanding what Remus was getting at, or why he was smirking in a very un-Remus-y way. "To limit your options to only well-endowed men," Remus explained, having to bite his lip to keep his own amusement under control.

James and Peter both lost it at this, hooting and slapping their knees in hilarity. " _Giant-cock_  lover," James wheezed eventually, pink in the face and gasping for breath. This renewed ruckus drew the foursome more stares from the rest of the room's occupants, and Sirius just groaned and hid his face again.

"Terribly sorry to interrupt gentlemen, I'd like a word with you Mr Lupin, if you can spare a moment." Dumbledore had finally arrived, with fucking stellar timing Sirius couldn't help but notice.

"Of course," Remus said as he got to his feet, his warm hand squeezed Sirius's shoulder for a few seconds before he stepped away. James and Peter were still laughing quietly, distracted enough for Sirius to lean slightly into the touch. "You'll hang around?" Remus asked under his breath, and Sirius nodded at once. He wasn't leaving this place without Remus. He'd had quite enough of his own company.

"And Mr Black?" Dumbledore said, almost as an aside, pausing just before he led Remus from the room. Sirius looked up once again. "I'd advise against keeping roosters in your flat, regardless of their size. It seems cruel, no matter how much you love them."

"I'll bear that in mind," Sirius mumbled, hideously embarrassed at the idea of Dumbledore, along with most of the Order, knowing far more about his personal life than he'd ever willingly share.

James and Peter were so overcome with mirth at Dumbledore's jibe that they had progressed to silent rocking, fat tears rolling down their cheeks, and their red faces contorted into almost pained expressions. James was leaning against Sirius still, shaking and gasping for air. "Roosters!" he choked, and Sirius really wanted to punch him. A possible overreaction he realised, but he just wasn't used to being laughed at by James, or teased by  _Dumbledore_ , or feeling like everyone was making a huge fucking joke out of something he was still quite sensitive about.

Sirius shuffled down the couch a bit, and James suddenly without his leaning post slid sideways, losing his balance and falling front first onto the couch. Sirius hadn't moved that far though, and James's nose collided solidly with Sirius's knee.

"Fucking  _ow_ ," James grunted, sobered by the impact. He pushed himself up, and Sirius was pleased, er  _sorry_ , to see blood trickling from his right nostril.

"Clumsy twat," he said, finally finding something to smile about. "I'm going for a smoke."

* * *

 

Sirius stood on the back porch wrapped up in a scarf and wishing that it wasn't impossible to smoke with gloves on. The January night was cold enough already, but there was a strong arctic wind whistling around the wall of the old house adding to his discomfort. He huddled himself back against the side of the house, and was contemplating just chucking his cigarette and going back inside.

 _Bloody James_ , Sirius thought grumpily, resolutely staying put rather than face more snickering. He had never felt this cut off from his oldest friend. The constant, seemingly jokey slurs that James kept slapping him with were pushing them further apart, and Sirius didn't know how to stop it. James truly seemed oblivious to the way Sirius couldn't handle the jibes, but then Sirius supposed, why should he? They'd teased each other for years about girls and school marks, for fumbling the quaffle in an important match or wanking without a silencing charm, nothing had ever been off limits. But this was different, perhaps because half the things he said weren't meant to be a joke.

 _Is that different for queers?_  James's offhanded remark repeated itself in Sirius's mind.  _No,_  he'd wanted to reply,  _no it isn't fucking different._  He wanted to see Remus every bloody minute. But so far in their eight-month relationship they'd spent a total of thirty hours together.

The back door opened then, and Sirius looked over to see Caradoc with a cigarette between his lips, regarding the weather contemptuously. He lit his smoke and said in a raised voice to carry over the wind, "So did you actually punch Potter in the face for calling you a fag, or is that just Chinese-Whispers?"

"I sort of wish I had," Sirius replied as Caradoc came to stand by him, "I don't know how to deal with him sometimes."

"Isn't he your best friend?"

Sirius nodded, thinking as he did that no one had ever had to ask him that before, his and James's devoted friendship had always been blatantly obvious, and Caradoc definitely knew that. Sirius wondered if he was trying to remind him of this fact.

"You and Remus should tell him the truth, and tell him to get the fuck over it."

"Probably," Sirius agreed. "He accused me of telling Dumbledore about the Voldemort wanting him thing so that he'd have to stay home, and I'd get you as my new watch partner. I just don't even know where to start with how mental a theory that is."

"Oh, he's jealous then?"

"Of what?" Sirius said indignantly, "He has Lily, why shouldn't I shag you?" Caradoc laughed and Sirius cursed ruefully when he realised what he'd said. "Fucking hell, now he's even got me saying it."

"It's okay mate." Caradoc grinned acceptingly. "It might not even be to do with the boyfriend thing, it seems like he just doesn't like that there's a part of your life he doesn't quite get."

"Yeah, an imaginary part." Sirius huffed, flicking his cigarette angrily.

Caradoc shrugged. "I'd guess jealousy, but then I barely know him. Maybe he just hates me."

"Ha, maybe," Sirius said, still grouchy but pleased to have an outside opinion. Caradoc was becoming a constant in Sirius's life just the way his three school friends had, except that he was just Sirius's. He didn't have to share him with anything except Order duties, no Lily, or a needy Mum, or books, it was awfully nice to have his own friend. Caradoc raised his eyebrows queryingly and Sirius realised he'd just been staring vacantly at the guy as he thought all this through. "Sorry," he said distractedly, "I think James just hates his lot at the moment, not you."

"Thank heavens for that." Caradoc smirked, then he shivered and rocked back and forward briskly, tucking his cigarette-free hand inside his jacket and up underneath his arm. "Merlin's tits it's cold out here."

"Yeah," Sirius agreed. "I'm just waiting for Moony to finish with Dumbledore, then we're getting out of here. What are you doing with your night off?"

"Got a hot date," Caradoc said brightly.

"Really?" Sirius supposed he shouldn't be surprised by this, but in the six months that Sirius had known him he'd never really mentioned his romantic engagements. He supposed he must have been seeing people, Sirius just hadn't thought about it.

"More like a sure thing," Caradoc replied, "a muggle I see now and again." He looked slightly guilty as he tapped the ash from his cigarette, and continued quietly, "It's nice just to pretend all this shit doesn't exist for a night sometimes."

Dating a muggle,  _how bizarre_ , Sirius thought. He himself wouldn't know where to start, buying muggle records and going to gigs filled with them was one thing, it was anonymous and simple. If you acted a bit strange they soon forgot you. But  _seeing_  one, repeatedly? That was how you got yourself caught out. But then Caradoc was clever, and not a pureblood, he probably had a bit more blending-in experience than Sirius did. But still, Sirius couldn't help asking, "What does he think you do for a living?"

Caradoc grimaced sheepishly, "You'll laugh," he said, "I told him I'm a mechanic, it's already totally backfired on me."

"That is a hideous pun." Sirius snickered despite the awful joke.

"No it really did!" Caradoc insisted, looking both mortified and amused, "One morning after he asked me to look at his car, making a weird noise he reckoned, well by the time I was done it was definitely making a weird noise, and smoking … a lot." His sheepish smile was back. "Magic and cars don't mix."

"You're so right." Sirius empathised. "My motorbike has exploded more times than I can count. Luckily never while in the air, but it was a bloody huge project to get it going right. I could probably show you how to do a few bits to a car engine." He lifted an eyebrow teasingly. "If you need to prove to this guy you're not total rubbish at your job."

"What, the muggle way?" Caradoc asked, ignoring the mocking and looking completely taken aback.

"Yeah." Sirius shrugged. "You've seen my bike, it was just a standard Triumph to start with."

"You are full of surprises," Caradoc said faintly.

"I really wish you'd stop thinking I'm the same as every other muggle-ignorant pureblood," Sirius grumbled, disliking the genuine surprise on Caradoc's face.

"Touchy," Caradoc said, "most  _muggles_  don't even know how to fix a car engine, I think I'm well within my rights to find it surprising that a chap raised completely magic would have that knowledge. Don't be mean to me 'cause Potter's giving you grief."

"Are we really back at that?" Sirius muttered grumpily.

"Christ, cheer up!" Caradoc instructed, then clapped Sirius on the shoulder and added, "You'll give that pretty face wrinkles if you don't stop frowning."

Sirius forced a smile that felt quite deranged, a feeling confirmed when Caradoc grimaced and backed away, half laughing and holding up his hands in surrender. "Forget I said anything, the mysterious brooding look works better than maniacal axe murderer at least."

"Bugger off," Sirius said, a real smile breaking through, "don't want to be late and have to tell your date your car broke down."

"Imagine it!" Caradoc laughed. "He'll forgive me, best arse he's ever had he reckons."

Sirius just grinned bemusedly. He really didn't know how to take half the things Caradoc said to him. "Good for you?" he commended, but it sounded more like a question.

"And him!" Caradoc chortled back in farewell, as he jumped jauntily off the porch steps and headed out into the darkness.

Sirius was left alone on the cold porch, chuckling to himself as he searched for his nearly empty cigarette box in his jacket pockets. He found it and put the second to last one to his bottom lip, still thinking about Caradoc and his blasé gayness. He was unable to prevent the image of Caradoc being thoroughly fucked by some faceless man from appearing in his head as he lit his smoke.

Sirius had often wondered how the ….  _arrangement_  was decided on when blokes had sex. He'd put his cock in enough girls to know it felt pretty amazing, and surely an arse wouldn't be that different, but he was curious. Because if half of every couple had to be the …  _Keeper,_  then that couldn't be all bad either, right?

 _Would Remus have a preference?_  Sirius speculated on this briefly, causing Caradoc and his muggle to vanish from his mind. He smirked sinfully to himself, leaning back against the wall of the house again as  _his_  bedroom, and  _his_  Remus occupied his thoughts instead.


	12. Part 4: II

By the time Sirius had finished his cigarette he'd quite forgotten about the cold night. His already dirty mind had gotten carried away as he stood there, imagining all manner of scandalous things that he and Remus could do together. Sirius was feeling distinctly flushed as he re-entered the house, he was also thoroughly regretting wearing his drainpipes – even if Remus had called them sexy once – because they were too tight  _before_  all his blood diverted south. Now they were bordering on torture.

Sirius was set on finding Remus and getting out of there, so he bypassed the parlour, not wanting to see James and have him spoil his re-inflated spirits. Dumbledore held the one-on-one meetings in a bedroom upstairs, and Sirius planned to go and wait up there for Remus to be done. But the gods were smiling on him for once, and Remus was just coming down the stairs as Sirius reached them. The werewolf's face brightened as soon as he saw Sirius, his normally serious eyes seemed to sparkle, and his mouth looked poised for kissing… or maybe Sirius was just stupidly horny.

"Padfoot, you alright?" Remus asked, when he reached the bottom stair, his eyebrows tented slightly in concern as he took in Sirius's greedy expression.

"Corking Moony," Sirius said, the anticipation fizzing inside him sent a foolish grin across his face.

Dumbledore followed Remus down from upstairs, derailing Sirius's fixation momentarily. He gave Sirius a much kinder smile than when he'd teased him in the parlour.

"Good evening Sirius," he said, as he passed the pair of them and opened the door to the scullery. The narrow space between the kitchen and medi-room had once been used for shoe-shining and other messy domestic tasks, but the Order had repurposed it as a cloakroom and equipment storage. Dumbledore emerged from the room and swirled a flamboyantly sparkled blue cloak about his shoulders.

"Nice cloak," Sirius commented before he could stop himself.

"Thank you Sirius," Dumbledore said, rather gravely, "I have a visit to Aberforth ahead of me, he despises flashy garments and revels in being grouchy, I like to do what I can."

"How thoughtful of you," Sirius replied, just managing to hold back a snicker. Dumbledore might be a powerful wizard, but he was also a loony old fruit.

Dumbledore's beard twitched, and he fastened the clasp at this throat. "Enjoy your evening off," he said.

"Thanks," Sirius and Remus replied in unison. Dumbledore dipped his head and then set off through the front door, out into the blustery night.

Sirius headed straight to the scullery the moment the door shut behind Dumbledore, his irrepressible smile fixed firmly once more as he went inside to retrieve Remus's coat so they could leave too. Remus followed him in, he leaned on the long workbench that ran down the centre of the utility room and eyed Sirius's sudden cheerful disposition cautiously, "What's with you?" he asked.

"Nothing," Sirius said, locating Remus's coat on a peg close to the door to the kitchen. He handed it to Remus and said innocently, "I'm allowed to be happy aren't I?"

"I guess," Remus allowed, his tone suspicious, and his eyes narrowing slightly, "Although it's normally because you've done something questionable."

_He has a point,_  Sirius thought, but he shook his head. "No mischief today."

Remus watched Sirius anxiously for a second, not making any move to leave. "I have to tell you something," he said, putting his coat on the benchtop, still looking worried.

"That's never good," Sirius muttered, feeling his good mood waver instantly.

"It's not too bad," Remus said, dropping his gaze and sounding reluctant, "Dumbledore wants me to go and find Rhiannon and the others that broke away."

A slow and heavy weight hit the pit of Sirius's stomach, he should have known. "Of course he does," he said churlishly. He began to pick at the worktop surface with his fingernail, channelling his disappointment into the small act of vandalism. A flake of paint came away just as Remus continued.

"Not long term, just to talk with them, make sure they have enough food and stuff, visit them once a week, take supplies and aconite." He reached out and covered Sirius's hand, putting a stop to his paint-picking. "It won't be like before."

Sirius's ebbing spirits paused as he listened, a couple of nights away a week was nothing compared to the previous six months, and no contact with Greyback either. It could be much worse. "Didn't Caradoc already find them?" Sirius asked, trying to cover his little sulk.

"He did," Remus confirmed, a small frown appearing on his face. "God, he really tells you too much."

Sirius shrugged. "No one else does, got to get my info from somewhere."

"I guess he is your boyfriend," Remus teased, but there was a bitter edge to his voice.

"Merlin I'm sorry I didn't tell you," Sirius said immediately, lacing his fingers through Remus's where they still rested on the bench between them. "Bloody James."

There was a flash of hurt across Remus's face. "You weren't really fucking him were you?"

"No!" Sirius half yelped, panicked Remus would even consider it. "Moony, I meant sorry I didn't tell you about James and his ridiculous conclusions, not sorry I was  _cheating_  on you."

"I don't know that it's ridiculous," Remus said reflectively, and far too calmly in Sirius's opinion. "Caradoc is pretty fit …"

"Rem." Sirius shook his head, the little well of guilt inside him bubbled because he had thought,  _did think,_  the same thing. "Don't, it's weird."

"Well he is." Remus shrugged, a twist to his lips. "Bet he fucks like a champ."

"Stop it." Sirius grimaced. He took his hand back from Remus and went back to picking at the table top.

"Sorry," Remus said sourly, "I didn't mean to perve on your man."

"Would you cut it out?" Sirius snapped tersely, glaring at him.  _Why was everyone determined to piss him off tonight?_

"Sorry," Remus said again, shrinking back just a little.

Remus sounded sincere and looked quite repentant. It was so unlike him to push something like that. Remus had never struck him as the jealous type, but maybe he was. Sirius didn't know how he personally would handle it if the situation was reversed… likely the same, or worse. Just hearing Remus call Caradoc fit unsettled him, Merlin, he should probably be less of a bird about the whole thing. "S'alright," Sirius said, and he meant it.

"So are you going to tell me what had you smiling like a smitten school boy out there?" Remus asked, clearly trying to change the subject. He'd taken Sirius's hand again, probably to stop him gouging his initials into the paint or something else childish.

"I was bored while I waited for you, my imagination got carried away," Sirius said, giving Remus a suggestive side-long smirk. He was ready to talk about anything if it got them away from Caradoc.

"Really?" Remus asked, somehow making the innocuous word sound lewd. "What were you thinking about?" He turned to face Sirius properly, his eyes were wide, but there was nothing innocent in the look. His hand drifted up Sirius's arm enticingly, and Sirius wanted to kiss him so badly, even if they were standing in a glorified coat cupboard.

"I was imagining finally having you in my bed," Sirius blurted out honestly, because he could think of little else right then. He couldn't wait any longer, he leaned in and pressed his lips to Remus's, his fingers slipping into his tidily combed hair, disarranging it as he revelled in their first kiss for two weeks. Remus responded just as eagerly; his drifting hand curled in Sirius's collar and the other tugged him nearer by his belt loop, and Sirius felt his desire rekindle in the extreme.

_They should really go home,_  Sirius thought absently, as he pushed Remus up against the bench, and kissed him for all he was worth. He swallowed his groan of pleasure as Remus's tongue twined with his own. The cold dark scullery only metres from the parlour full of people probably wasn't the best place to be groping each other.

But then Remus's fingers found their way under the hem of Sirius's t-shirt to grip his side just above his hip, his thumb stroked distractingly against the bare skin.  _No one will need their coats for a while,_ Sirius reasoned hastily. They were all too busy having fun next door, a few more kisses wouldn't hurt.

It was more than a few, but not nearly enough when Remus eventually pulled back, sagging against the bench behind him and tugging Sirius closer again. He put his free hand on the work top and boosted himself back onto it. Then he took a deep breath and locked eyes with Sirius as he smiled slowly. Sirius got the feeling Remus was up to something.

"Anything specific?" Remus asked, his voice low. He drew Sirius still closer so that he was standing between Remus's thighs. They were on eye-level, and Sirius couldn't really think about anything as Remus's lips found his throat and he hooked his legs around Sirius's arse so they were locked together. "You said your imagination got carried away… tell me about it?"

Sirius's eyes widened at this out of the blue, and out of character request. "You are so much randier than I ever suspected," he replied, delighted by the revelation.

Remus kissed him again, firm and fast and perfect. "I surprise myself," he said against Sirius's mouth, "I want all kinds of insane things from you. A few dirty daydreams seems pretty tame."

They were positioned in such a way that the unmistakable hot ridge of Remus's prick was mere inches from Sirius's own, it made it difficult to think, let alone articulate his filthy imaginings in a way that was enticing rather than downright pornographic. Sirius's mouth was dry as Remus kissed his way down his neck, his teeth scraping in the four-day stubble as he sucked and licked in turn.

Sirius tried to keep his voice quiet, but it just sounded gravelly. "I was thinking about what would happen when we have sex," he paused, dreading for a second that this was highly presumptuous, but Remus just hummed in interest and waited for more, making Sirius both more and less nervous to continue, but he did, even if the words came out a bit blunt, "I mean, obviously you couldn't just stick your dick in there, so I started wondering how you prepare for it."

Sirius felt Remus's lips curve in a smile against his jaw before he asked, "What did you come up with?"

Sirius swallowed, stealing himself and just going with the truth. "I imagined you sucking me off, like last time, that's about the hottest thing that's ever happened in my life." Remus ran his knuckles purposefully up the front of Sirius's too-tight fly, still lapping at his neck, and Sirius had enough presence of mind to shake his wand from his sleeve and  _Colloportus_ the door to the hallway. Remus's recklessness was astonishing tonight,  _fantastic_ , but astonishing.

The click of the lock drew Remus's attention and he said softly, "This is mad, shall we just go home?" His words held a trace of disappointment, Sirius couldn't allow that.

"We should," Sirius said, kissing him again, not quite ready to interrupt the moment. "But I'm sort of getting off on your irresponsible attitude."

Remus puffed out a singular laugh. "Figures." He looked embarrassed, and didn't quite meet Sirius's eyes as he said, "I missed you Padfoot, so much, it's a bit frightening actually."

"Me too," Sirius said at once, wrapping his arms around Remus in a hug. "Merlin, I wish I'd had the balls to talk to you sooner, we could have had -"

But Remus cut him off, he pushed Sirius back just a little so he could see his face, he put a hand to his jaw and pressed his thumb against Sirius's lips, stopping him from talking. "Never mind," he said, gently, "It's not like we're old yet."

"I'm turning 20 this year," Sirius said, as Remus moved his thumb away from his mouth and grazed his cheek, "time is going so fast." It wasn't time that bothered Sirius so much as war, sudden expiry at the end of a Death Eater's wand was more and more likely as their numbers grew and public opinion wavered.

"Pads," Remus said sympathetically, looking directly into his eyes, "you're worrying over nothing." Then the compassionate expression was replaced with an impish glint. "Now, why don't you do something useful, like tell me what happens in your dirty mind after I go down on you."

Now there was a sentence that drove depressing war thoughts from his head. Sirius smiled. "Well, it's more like during," he said baldly, spurred on by the brush of Remus's knuckles up and down his fly again, only this time they kept going. Sirius wasn't so annoyed at his tight jeans anymore, Remus didn't have to do much guess work to hit his mark. "So you're on your knees," Sirius started again, stealing himself to relay the next part, forcing the slightly embarrassing words out, "giving me a mind-blowing blowjob." He flicked the button open on Remus's trousers. "And then you start stretching me open with your fingers at the same time." Remus let out a fluttering little breath, obviously taken by surprise.

Sirius decided he might as well do this right, dirty talk had never been his thing, but if Remus liked it he would do his best. He put his lips next to Remus's ear, nipping at his lobe as he got his hand inside Remus's trousers, closing his fingers around his hard prick, Remus let out another breath full of anticipation as Sirius continued, choosing his words more deliberately, all but purring them into Remus's ear. "They'd have to be slick, your fingers, well lubed so you could push them in and out, I figured you'd enjoy that."

"I would," Remus agreed, his voice trembling slightly as Sirius moved his fist. Remus's cock was hot and smooth against his palm. "God yes," Remus groaned, dragging Sirius in for a messy kiss. This reckless Remus was addicting, Sirius just wanted to extract more and more of those gorgeous noises. He thumbed the sticky head of Remus's prick and was rewarded with a plea, "Don't stop, Sirius, please." Remus sucked on Sirius's bottom lip for a second, then his heavy exhale fanned across Sirius's face. "Then what?" he asked, his eyes falling closed once more.

Sirius smiled, enjoying the tiny power trip, Remus so unguarded, so eager. "Then when I was loose enough, you'd line up your cock, and push in, slowly." Sirius timed the last word with a calculated firm but leisurely slide of his fist.

Remus whimpered. "Why slow?" he breathed. His own fingers fumbling with Sirius's fly, clearly determined to reciprocate.

"Because you'd want it to last," Sirius said, his voice catching as Remus's familiar, but still so wonderfully new, grip enclosed him and stroked his length. With a valiant effort he managed to continue the description, and keep his hand moving on Remus. "Because that first time, the first long slide, all that tight wet heat, that's not something to be rushed." He couldn't believe he was saying these things out loud, but Remus's reaction just made him want to say every filthy thing he'd ever thought about, he was loving every word, it was crazy.

He kissed Remus again then and was met with scorching, frenzied lips, their arms bumped continuously as they jerked each other off, the room was reasonably dim and it gave the impression of seclusion, of privacy, but the noise of people in the parlour intruded; they were insane for doing this here. But Sirius couldn't bring himself to care. There was a brilliant tightening in the pit of his stomach, Remus's fingers were flying over his cock, he was desperate to come, and for Remus to, so they could go home and start all over again.

"Anything else?" Remus asked, changing his grip and causing Sirius's vision to go patchy,  _how could he be so bloody good at this?_

" _Fuck_ ," Sirius breathed, his knees buckled as his impending orgasm demanded all of his focus, and Remus tightened his legs around him so he couldn't collapse. "Rem, I'm –" Sirius's grip on Remus went slack, his head fell forward, watching Remus's hand, its frantic pace, the flushed tip of his cock appearing over and over, the flex and strain of the tendons in Remus's forearm. "G-gods that's am-amazing," Sirius stuttered, and then his eyes closed as the tension within him broke and he came, shuddering and leaning heavily on Remus. There were spots of light dancing on Sirius's still closed eyelids as he began to pump his hand along Remus's length again. The calm pulsing flood of climax spread through him. It dulled every pent-up agitation, every negative thought was dissolved by bliss.

Once Sirius was in control of his knees Remus fell back and propped himself up on his elbows. His cock was still full and leaking freely, standing proudly just for Sirius. It was perfect, and he couldn't help himself, touching it wasn't enough, he wanted to taste it. Sirius took a step back to get enough space and then leaned in. There was a broken moan from Remus as Sirius's mouth closed around the salty-smooth head.

Sirius hollowed his cheeks and flattened his tongue, sucking as he drew Remus in, loving the instinctive shift of Remus's hips, the drag of velvet skin across his lips. This had been the act that had solidified his last remaining uncertainties a fortnight ago, it turned out that he fucking  _adored_  sucking Remus's cock. And it was no different this time, except that Remus wasn't going to last much longer. Sirius breathed deeply through his nose, moving steadily faster, repressing the urge to gag as he took more and more in, Remus was so close. He murmured a constant chain of encouragement and expletives as Sirius increased the pressure, feeling a sense of pride and achievement that he was able to garner such a reaction.

Remus had just clutched Sirius's shoulder in an imminent warning when there was a loud shout from somewhere nearby, Sirius pulled off, looking in the direction of the noise, his heart in his throat. The door wasn't open, no one had intruded, so what was-

His building panic was disrupted when Remus's warm release splattered across his cheek and down the side of his neck. Sirius looked back at Remus, surprise making him chuckle as he touched the mess with his fingers.

"Oops." Remus breathed a little laugh too. "Sorry." He sighed as he sat upright, looking at the door while he dug out his wand. Remus vanished the evidence of their tryst quickly, frowning now, and even through his distraction Sirius knew why.

There was a sudden deadly quiet in the room across the hall. He stilled, the peaceful glow inside him dimmed as they listened. The dark of the scullery seemed to lift as they both stared at the door to the hallway, it felt like it took eons for something to happen, Sirius's breath, still heavy, was so loud, he tried to quieten it. Then unexpectedly, Lily's voice spoke. It held the ethereal quality of a patronus.

" _Marlene is hurt and we're out numbered, Lestrange, Jugson, and Muciber turned up, we're hiding but they'll find us soon. Request back up."_

It was worse than a cold shower. A horrible clammy chill swept up his spine; Lily was alone and in trouble. "Prongs," Sirius muttered. He pulled Remus by the hand down off the workbench. "Come on Rem, he'll lose it."

"Padfoot, your fly," Remus hissed as he followed Sirius's urgent path out of the room, wrestling with his own trousers. Remus cast a hasty  _Alohamora_  as Sirius fixed his jeans quickly, then he wrenched the door open, Sirius could barely believe that he'd been so in the moment less than two minutes ago.

By the time they made across the hall into the parlour with their clothes back in place James was already panicking. Peter had him by the arm, and James was trying to throw him off, gesturing angrily at Benjy Fenwick and Sturgis Podmore who were organising the response group.

Caradoc appeared at Sirius's side in a second. "Get Potter out of here will you, he's not allowed out of Headquarters and he's just delaying us."

"What are you doing back here?" Sirius asked, shocked to see him.

"He bailed on me, it's –" but then James's loud voice cut him off.

"No, fuck you Podmore, she's my fiancée, I'm going!"

Sirius and Remus reached James just as he drew his wand. They towed him bodily from the room, out into the hall and through to the kitchen. Peter had followed and slammed the door closed behind them.

"Let me go!" James shouted, fighting hard, "Fuck it! Sirius, what the hell?" James struggled against Sirius's tight grip, his glasses flew off and hit the floor, but he kept thrashing, his voice cracking and his eyes wide and frightened. "You're not going to stop me, it's  _Lily_ , where were you? Lily's been cornered I need to go and get her, Lestrange and –"

"Prongs," Sirius said, shaking him a little, "calm down, where is she? What was she doing tonight?"

"I don't know," James half howled in despair, "I'm not allowed to know what she's doing, you know the rules - watch partners only, she never knew what we were doing 'til after the fact. Fuck! I have to go with them, I'm not –" He finally twisted out from Sirius's arms and made to leave the room again, but Remus held him back with a deadly serious glare and a broad hand in the middle of his chest.

"They're not going to take you," Remus said bluntly, "you're a liability like this. You're no help to Lily if you get caught too."

Sirius however was suffering from a moral dilemma, James would be in danger if he went, but Sirius knew all too well what it was like to be forced to wait at home while the person he loved –  _holy shit, Loved?!_ – was under threat. "Keep him here," he said to Remus, and he passed Pete who was wringing his hands but guarding the exit all the same, and ducked back out into the hall.

"What are you doing?" James called after him.

"Finding out where she is," Sirius replied, extremely glad Caradoc's date had cancelled on him. "Docy will know," he promised.

Caradoc, Fenwick, Sturgis, and Emmilene Vance were shrugging on coats as Sirius re-entered the parlour. Arabella was ordering people to get the room cleaned up, and one of the young guys was sent off to wake Dorcas, who lived at Headquarters in case of situations just like this.

"Moody's going to meet us there," Sturgis was saying as Sirius approached, "there's a public garden in the middle of the square, we'll apparate in there and go on foot."

"Hey," Sirius said under his breath, sideling in inconspicuously on Caradoc's left, "Where are they? I'll come too."

"You can't bring Potter," Caradoc said regretfully, "sorry."

"But he'll lose his mind," Sirius pleaded. "You don't know how much she means to him." He grasped Caradoc's forearm discreetly, attempting to make him understand. "He'd go to Voldemort in her place, she's  _everything_." Caradoc held Sirius's gaze for a moment, and Sirius tried to look as beseeching as possible. "Please?" he asked again. "Where is she?" Sirius could almost see the resolve crumble in Caradoc's eyes.

"Do you ever not get what you want?" Caradoc muttered peevishly, but he glanced quickly around the group and then whispered swiftly, "Kensington, Lexham Gardens, you know Travers's Townhouse I suppose? She and Marlene were trying to find weak spots in their protective charms. I'll deny I told you if you get us in more shit."

"Thanks mate," Sirius said earnestly, bumping Caradoc's shoulder with his own.

"Keep him in check!" Caradoc called as Sirius hightailed it back to the kitchen.


	13. Part 4: III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains a brief, but graphic depiction of violence. This is a war-era fic, it was bound to happen eventually. xx

 

* * *

 

Sirius was quite sure that January nights in the middle of London were as bitter as at Hogwarts up in the frigid Highlands. Or at least it felt that way to him as he tucked his hands inside his jacket and tried to suppress a violent shiver. They'd appeared down the dark end of the mews just around the corner from Travers's quadruple storey terrace. The dead-end street turned the cold night air into a sort of whirlwind, whipping at them from unexpected directions as the four Marauders sorted out their plan of attack.

The dense little garden area the official party were using was not far down the street. Thankfully James seemed to have gained a bit of perspective since losing his shit in the kitchen at Headquarters, and was co-operating quietly as they plotted. The four of them didn't want to get caught here without permission, so they stayed back from the road as they whispered hurriedly in their huddle.

"Right," Remus was saying, as Sirius recovered his breath from the squeeze of apparition, "Prongs put your cloak on, don't come out for anything. Pete, go and see what you can find, Travers's is number twenty." Peter nodded quickly, and then shrank to Wormtail before their eyes, scampering off down the road and out of sight without hesitation. Remus looked at Sirius then, and there was excitement warring with the worry in his expression, Sirius's own heart was pounding as rapidly as it had been in the back in the scullery. The thrill of getting to do something worthwhile was contagious.

"It's so quiet out there," Remus said a few minutes later as Sirius joined him in scoping out the view from the road mouth. The imposing houses on all sides reminded Sirius of Grimmauld Place, though this area was much nicer. The houses were immaculate, with pristine white-columned entrances and soot free all the way to the top floor. Grimmauld Place had always given Sirius the impression that its upper floor was getting lost in the often grey sky, but it was really just the industrial grime from decades clinging to its facade.

"Prongs," Sirius hissed in the direction James had been when he'd vanished under the cloak, "come on, and let's see if we can find the others." There was a beat of silence in reply, and Sirius got a sinking feeling at once. He should have known. "He's bloody well scarpered," Sirius said incredulously, "Fucking typical."

"Idiot," Remus muttered, but he didn't look surprised in the slightest. He just raised his arm, rapped his wand on Sirius's head, and Sirius felt the tell-tale trickle of a disillusionment charm spreading over himself. Remus tapped his wand on his own head then and seemed to melt into the white painted wall of the building beside him, except for the dark triangular hinge of the disused mews door that was right at eye-level. It made him look like a transparent cowboy bandit.

They ventured from the alley quickly but cautiously, every sound made Sirius's head snap around. A car door slammed, then a cat darted across their path, its hackles raised in fright as it turned back to spit at them. Then, just above them a first floor window opened, and a blonde head poked out. There was a brief flash of a muggle cigarette lighter, and the woman blew a billow of smoke up into the night sky.

Sirius and Remus reached the fenced off patch of greenery in the middle of the road in no time, and both grasped the wrought iron struts to haul themselves up and over, and into the bushes. Sirius could feel the frigid air rising from the solid dirt beneath his feet and finding its way inside his trouser cuffs. "Rem," he whispered, "Travers's house is in the north corner of the square, let's head –" But he cut off as the sound of heavily crunching boots met their ears.

They must have been very close to the path, because the lowered voices of the passing people carried to them easily.

"Dearborn and Fenwick you get on the roof, we know that's a weak spot," Moody's recognisable voice growled, "Vance and Podmore I want you around the back, check for windows especially on the upper levels that have low security."

There was a sudden loud pop of apparition, and a voice Sirius didn't recognise said, "The girls are inside, Sir, one is unconscious but the ginger one was putting up a hell of a fight, I only just caught up to them in the alley before the Death Eaters side-a-longed them away."

"How do you know they're inside?" Moody asked.

"The feisty one, she was yelling at the top of her voice, I could hear her from down on the street, they'd apparated onto the roof of number twenty, dragged her inside pretty smartly."

"Good work Shacklebolt," Moody said, "It shouldn't be too difficult to get in, they had no idea until tonight we were even watching the place. It's only been twenty minutes since Evans's patronus arrived, they'd have been too busy hunting her down to have gotten far with protective charms. Shacklebolt, you're with me, we're going through the front door."

The group of Order members split up and moved off, and the two Marauders followed at a distance, heading out of the garden through the gate rather than over the fence this time. As Sirius and Remus neared the house they kept their eye on Moody and the young dark Auror at his side, who must have been Shacklebolt. They didn't want to get caught interfering; Moody was a scary bugger when he was provoked.

"Christ Prongs," Remus muttered disbelievingly, under his breath, stopping Sirius with a hand on his arm and pointing his other disillusioned hand in the direction of Travers's third floor. The window furthest on the right was inching open ever so slowly, and Sirius never would have noticed if Remus hadn't pointed it out. Sirius watched intently for a few moments, wondering if it was indeed an invisible James as Remus's cursing had suggested, or a Death Eating sniper about to pick Moody and Shacklebolt off as they approached the front steps. Then he noticed one lonely trainer set in a tip-toe position on the window ledge. He recognised the shoe as part of the pair James was wearing that evening at Headquarters.

"How the hell did he get up there?" Sirius asked in awe.

"I think the neighbours might have had an unexpected guest," Remus said, and when Sirius looked he saw a narrow balcony on the same level as the slowly opening window one house over, and the fire escape not far from that. It would still have taken some pretty risky climbing though.

"That was bloody fast," Sirius said, amazed that James had managed to find a way in so quickly.

Sirius's attention was taken from James and his building scaling by the loud knock of Moody's fist on Travers's front door. He and Shacklebolt stood on the top step, Auror uniforms and badges clearly on display.

This was an interesting tactic, Sirius thought. Travers presented a respectable face to the public. He was on many boards and committees, and his wife threw lavish dinner parties regularly – Sirius remembered his parents attending them when he'd lived at home. This meant that Travers could not be seen to kill an Auror on official business, he as a pillar of the community should welcome a visit from the head of the elite law enforcement team.

"We should get closer," Remus said, "We might be able to sneak in after them." They moved in as quietly as possible, Sirius was glad for the dark, it afforded their disillusioned forms much more cover.

The front door had opened while they snuck nearer, and a house-elf with strangely tall ears stood on the threshold.

Moody spoke firmly to it. "Good Evening, I'm Head Auror Alastor Moody, we've had reports of a disturbance in the area, we need to speak to your Master."

"Master is out," the elf squeaked, regarding Moody warily, "Shall I fetch Mistress instead?"

"Where is your Master this evening?" Moody asked, looking over the elf's head into the foyer.

"Master is busy," The elf said bluntly, giving both Moody and Shacklebolt a distrustful glare, "Not your business."

"Please fetch your Mistress then," Moody said, obviously not keen to get into an argument with the vehement creature.

The house-elf nodded, "Wait here." it said, and promptly shut the door in the Auror's faces.

As soon as the elf left Moody spun around, his wand trained on the darkness just to the left of Sirius. "If that's you Potter, there'll be hell to pay."

"It's not!" Sirius said at once, not doubting for a second that Moody would jinx him if he remained silent. "It's Sirius and Remus."

"You lot were told to stay back," Moody growled, and as he spoke he reached out and turned the handle on the front door, and it swung inward. Apparently the elf hadn't locked it while he went to get the lady of the house.

"Right, well, since you're here, get in there." He pointed in the house with a gnarled finger. "Stay out of sight and find Evans and McKinnon. Take them out through the roof, the terrace up there isn't warded against apparition."

"What?" Sirius spluttered, surprised not to be ordered straight back to Pinfold.

"Travers is out," Moody repeated impatiently, "but the girls will be in there somewhere waiting 'til he gets back, now hurry up before the wife gets down here."

They scurried inside, and Sirius felt Remus's hand close around his wrist. He pulled him into the darkest corner of the tiled entrance way, in the shadow of the wide staircase that led up into the house. Mrs Travers was taking her sweet time, and Sirius was thinking furiously. Lily was a valuable hostage, they would keep her upstairs somewhere, most likely a bedroom, easy to lock, easy to guard one door.

"Oh for pity's sake Blippy," a hushed but angry female voice travelled down to them, "those three are quite capable of keeping guard and the Auror's cannot enter our property without a permit. Now go and tend to my bath, I will be up there shortly."

When Mrs Travers descended the stairs Sirius felt his eyebrows shoot up his forehead, she was wearing only a thin slinky dressing gown and heeled carpet slippers. He was disturbed as he watched her satin-swathed bottom sway that this woman was of a similar age to his mother. Mrs Travers had obviously been heavily indulging in cosmetic charms.

"Gentlemen," Mrs Travers said, after opening the front door, "You've interrupted my bath, I do hope it's important."

"G'evening Madam," Moody replied, more politely than Sirius would have thought possible. "We received a report of a disturbance in the area, we're just checking all the magical homes to insure your safety."

Sirius didn't hear any more of the conversation, because he and Remus had started up the staircase. There were three other Death Eaters, or sympathisers at least up there, but Fenwick and Caradoc were coming in through the roof terrace so the Order members would outnumber them.

"I was thinking bedrooms," Remus breathed, as they paused to get their bearings at the top of the stairs.

"Me too," Sirius replied, "Prongs will think the same, hold on." He pulled his mirror from his pocket, and whispered, "James Potter."  _Why didn't I think of this earlier?_  Sirius berated himself.

James's face appeared on the small square of glass in extreme close up – Sirius could nearly see up his nose. "I'm inside," he said, his voice very soft, "third floor. The Mrs nearly ran me down in her nightie, but I'm fine."

"Have you found Lily or Marlene?" Sirius asked just as quietly.

"Not yet, the place is deserted, how do we know they're even here?"

"They are," Sirius confirmed in a whisper, "Being guarded by three guys, we're inside too, first floor, you check up there we'll do every room on our way up, Moody says go out through the roof. Keep the connection open."

"On it," James said, and the mirror surface went dark, James must have put it in his pocket.

Downstairs the front door shut, and Remus and Sirius both slunk back into the corner of the landing. Mrs Travers ascended the staircase quickly and passed them without a second glance. They waited until she'd rounded the banister up to the next level before daring to move.

"You don't think he'd have put them in the cellar?" Remus asked, looking back over his shoulder to the foyer below and the doors that led off it. "This place would have one wouldn't it?"

"Yeah," Sirius said, "but I doubt old Travers would put captives in with his wine collection, far too valuable."

Remus nodded. If anyone knew about the way old wanky pureblood people operated it was Sirius. "Okay, let's get moving then, hopefully Benjy and Caradoc will deal with the guards for us, they must be inside by now too."

"Poor Mrs Travers, home invasion while she's in the tub," Sirius muttered sardonically, as they set to work.

They checked all the rooms on their level: a drawing room, library, and a sun room filled with exotic potted plants. Everything was quiet and perfectly ordered. They crept up the stairs to the second floor, taking care to keep close to the wall in case the guards were on this floor. It turned out they were. Or someone was anyway. A wizard's voice could be heard speaking to someone else.

"How did they know to come after them?" the man said, and there was the unmistakable sound of something heavy being dragged across the carpet, and a grunt.

Then a second voice said, "Are you sure we shouldn't just kill them? That's Fenwick, he took out old Runcorn last month."

"No," the first voice said firmly, "best to wait for orders."

Sirius peered slowly around the corner, allowing his disillusionment charm to camouflage him into the wallpaper. His stomach sank as he saw Caradoc and Fenwick trussed back to back on the floor, bruised and bloodied.

Two Death Eaters stood over them. They were cloaked but their hoods were down, and Sirius recognised them easily. Rowan Mulciber had been a year ahead of them at school. He was a vicious bastard with zero conscience - perfect Death Eater stock. The other was Edward Smyth, who was older, closer to Caradoc's age, Sirius knew him from family events as a child. Smyth had two little sisters who had liked to chase Sirius and Regulus around to try and kiss them, like tiny sinister harpies. Grimacing at the memory, Sirius watched the Death Eaters drag Fenwick and Caradoc to the nearest door.

Seeing two very capable fighters knocked out cold made the situation seem much more frightening to Sirius. Caradoc was so confident in his skills, in his decisions, in pretty much everything; if he wasn't able to get past Mulciber and Smyth, what chance did Sirius and Remus have?

But then Mulciber opened the door, and Sirius got a glimpse inside the room they were guarding. The first thing that registered drove his uncertainty away—a shock of long auburn hair—Lily was there! She was tied up with Marlene in the same style as Caradoc and Benjy, and Marlene's head hung forward, she was unconscious. But not Lily. Even though she was bound and gagged her bright eyes were wide open, and she looked around the moment the door creaked. She watched cautiously as the two Order members were dragged into the room, glaring up at the Death Eaters as they got near her. Sirius almost admired their bravery, he would not get within ten feet of Lily when she wore that expression. They would come to regret it the moment she got her wand back Sirius was quite sure.

Sirius backed up, hiding around the corner again, bumping Remus's shoulder as he moved. "So much for outnumbering them," Remus murmured.

Sirius pulled out his mirror again, relief that they had a very good chance of getting Lily out of there alive flooded him as he spoke close to the glass, "Prongs we found her, second floor, left door second from the stairs, Mulciber and Smyth. No sign of a third, they've got Caradoc and Fenwick too. Come down and help us."

"Got it," James's voice sounded, very quietly.

"Stunners form here?" Remus suggested, as Sirius tucked the mirror into his jacket. "Better to take them out now."

"You're right," Sirius said, the old feeling of buoyancy that an impending fight brought on stole through him, and he nearly grinned, "I'll take Mulciber."

"Okay, on three." Remus moved slowly around Sirius so he could get a better shot.

"One, two, three,  _Stupefy!_ " they both whispered firmly. Two jets of red zipped across the hall, and the Death Eater's dropped without a hitch. Sirius and Remus hurried forward at once, Sirius took care to tread heavily on Mulciber's fingers as he passed. Remus stooped to retrieve their fallen wands.

Then they entered the room. "Lily!" Remus said at once. "It's me and Padfoot, Prongs will be here in just a minute too."

The lit-up hope that had flared on her face at the sound of Remus's voice vanished as he mentioned James. Lily blanched, and Remus pulled her gag away.

"James is here?  _Oh god_. We have to get out." she struggled in her bonds and Remus set about undoing them. "Travers has gone to get Voldemort, he left me here with them,"—she nodded out the door, indicating the prone forms of Mulciber and Smyth—"and said he would be back with the Dark Lord as soon as possible."

"Well then," said Sirius, as proper panic flared in his chest. He hunkered down next to the other tied up pair and felt about below Caradoc's jaw, thankfully finding a steady pulse. He gave Fenwick the same treatment, and got the same result. He felt relief again, but the impending threat of Voldemort dulled it a bit. "Let's get the fuck out of here then, shall we?"

Remus had been checking Marlene, his translucent fingers at her wrist. "She's alive," he said, "but her pulse is erratic, do you know what they hit her with?"

"No," Lily said, "something purple, I've never seen it before. What happened to Dearborn and Fenwick?" she asked as she got to her feet, rubbing at her arms where she had been bound tightly, "How are we going to get them all out?"

"Lils!" James's voice was cracked with emotion, making them all jump in surprise as his disembodied head appeared in the doorway. It floated jerkily across the room, accompanied by quick footsteps, and then Lily disappeared as James threw his cloak covered arms around her.

"We have to go," she said, reappearing again almost immediately, "Voldemort is coming Jamie, Travers has gone to get him."

"Lily," Remus interrupted before James could talk, and no doubt delay them further, "where's your wand?"

"Mulciber took it," she said, cautiously poking her head out the door and then crouching down to frisk his pockets. She recovered it in seconds from the inside of his robe.

Meanwhile Remus had hoisted Caradoc over his shoulder and said, "You guys take one too, Lily lead the way. Let's go."

"Why we can't just levitate them?" Sirius asked, thinking that Marlene, while reasonably slim was still tall and his back was protesting as they started up the staircase.

Remus looked back over his shoulder at Sirius, completely at ease with climbing the stairs while carrying the dead weight of a bloke, who had at least thirty pounds on him. "Because there's another Death Eater around here somewhere and I want my wand free for fighting."

"Good call," Sirius said, internally bemoaning the unfairness of werewolf strength. He really just hoped they were fast enough to get away before everyone's worst nightmare turned up. They reached the terrace door unaccosted however, and Lily pulled it open ever so slightly. There was no one in sight.

The rooftop looked like some kind of tropical forest at first glance, with varying shades of green in all directions and bright dabs of colour in the form of oversized flowers that adorned many of the plants. But the illusion of natural formation was lost when Sirius noticed that all the flora grew from pots or troughs, carefully and artistically arranged to leave little paths and seating areas amongst the greenery. There were tiny lights set into the concrete floor and others woven through the trees, Sirius would have thought they were electric muggle ones if he hadn't known better.

"Okay… where's the third one?" Remus muttered, cautiously scanning the over-planted rooftop. He stepped further out into the garden with his wand held at the ready and his disillusioned head turning methodically in every direction to find the third guard, but there was no attack.

Sirius followed, and James and Lily brought up the rear. The air felt strange and thick to Sirius, heavy with magic; no doubt they were standing in the very edge of the magical wards.

"Let's go," Remus said, as he prepared to disapparate, getting a tighter grip on Caradoc.

Sirius secured Marlene over his shoulder and took a few steps out across the roof to get out of the magical protection, the cloying air didn't thin though, and he worried that the Death Eaters had reinforced their security after all. But he turned on the spot anyway, the driveway of Pinfold Lane fixed firmly in his mind as he did so. The pressure of apparition never came, just as he had thought, that thick magical air was stopping them.

"Bugger," muttered Remus. "I thought Moody said you could disapparate from up here?"

"He did, they must have upped security after all."

" _Finite Incarnatem_ ," Remus said forcefully, and the rush of the spell through the heavy air was palpable, the fern fronds nearby waved in the magical breeze.

Sirius tried to disapparate again, but nothing doing. There was a rustle from among the potted plants to his left, and Sirius turned his wand on it as he said quietly, "Prongs just take Lily and go, we'll manage these guys, you'll have to climb down." He looked at Remus and realised that the spell Remus had thrown over the area had lifted their disillusionment charms.

"You're sure?" James asked, but even as he spoke he was depositing Fenwick on the ground.

"Yes," Remus agreed. "We'll be right after you but you're the reason Lily was taken hostage anyway, I think it's best if you're not weighed down if we're caught." Remus laid Caradoc down next to Fenwick and went to peer over the walled edge of the building. "The fire escape is down there," he said, pointing.

Then, out of nothing, there was a flash of light so bright that Sirius was blinded, a burning white light had flared from the direction he'd heard movement a moment ago. The whole rooftop was illuminated brighter than the finest summer day, the glare burnt at Sirius's eyes before he could close them.

Someone had cast a Flash-bang Hex, harmless, but debilitating, Aurors used them all the time to stop criminals. It had been lacking the ear-splitting boom that normally went with the light though, that was strange.

Sirius blinked rapidly, his wand still raised as he pressed his back to the wall next to the door to the stairs. " _Protego_." He threw up a shield charm to protect himself from the caster of the flash-bang hex. The weirdly wavy outlines of the lit garden swum in front of his closed eyes. "Moony, Prongs?" he asked, very glad the hex had only been a partial one, and that his ears weren't ringing so badly that he was deaf as well as blind.

"Here Pads," Remus's voice called, from the direction of the ledge. "Blind though."

"Me too," said James, from his other side.

Sirius realised with a sick swoop in his belly that Caradoc and Fenwick were laid out on the ground unprotected. Marlene was still hung sack-of-potatoes style over his shoulder, but the unconscious pair hadn't been that far from him when the hex went off. He took two careful steps to his right, away from Remus and the ledge and towards James, and hopefully closer to the spot where Caradoc lay. Sirius kept his eyes wide open but was only able to see black at first. Although with every blink he could see a tiny bit more. The ornamental lights among the plants were a reference point as his sight improved minimally - they were tiny dim smears of light that barely registered to his overexposed retinas.

Then he heard a new voice, one that made him both fear and hope at once. "Remus, is that you?" it asked. It was Regulus, Sirius recognised his carefully articulated speech immediately.

Sirius could see a moving blob of brightness in Remus's direction, the tip of a lit wand he realised. If he didn't look at things directly he could see more. The outline of Remus against the streetlamp lit sky was visible to his light-shocked eyes now, and also that of Sirius's brother moving toward him with his wand lit.

"Regulus?" Remus said in surprise. Sirius was impressed that Remus was able to pick his brothers voice so easily, but then it was Remus. He was ridiculously observant, and perhaps at close range Remus could actually see Regulus's face anyway.

"Damn it, you need to go," Regulus said, his voice shook, as he stood close to Remus at the edge of the roof, "the Dark Lord will be arriving any minute."

"It's a bit hard to go when you're blind!" Sirius said loudly. He felt like he was wearing extremely dark sunglasses now, an improvement, but it would still be a death sentence in a duel. "Why the hell did you cast a Flash-bang?"

" _Sirius?_ " Regulus moaned, clearly displeased by his presence. He must not have recognised his older brother's voice quite as easily as Sirius had his. "Fuck, what are you doing here? They've got Potter's girl in there, the Dark Lord isn't far away,"

"We know, James is here too–" Sirius began.

"I told you!" Regulus cut in angrily, "I told you what was happening, why can't you just listen to me?" Then he muttered something under his breath, and a great black wave swept over Sirius's vision, so dense that he could almost feel it as his retinas finally recovered so that he could see properly again. He pointed his wand at Regulus, who was pale and looked unlike himself in Death Eater garb.

"We're going now," Sirius said shortly. "James get cracking, we'll wake this lot and follow."

"Good," Regulus shot back. "You're so lucky it was me up here, you shouldn't have come."

"Where were you?" Remus asked as he hurried forward to kneel down and murmur, " _Enervate,_ " with his wand aimed at Fenwick's chest, but nothing happened.

"He stunned me," Regulus said, gesturing to Caradoc. "I came to just now and heard you all chatting like it was sodding tea time."

Sirius sent an enervate at Caradoc, his blue eyes flickered open briefly but then rolled back. They were going to have to carry them again. Remus and James had realised the same thing.

"Give me Marlene," James said, "she's worst off, we'll get her to Dorcas quickly."

Sirius unloaded the still floppy Marlene to James. Then Lily flung the cloak over them, and they vanished from sight.

Sirius stooped to heave Caradoc over his shoulder and was pretty sure several of his vertebrae cracked in the process. He stumbled, and then Regulus made an impatient sound and flicked his wand at Caradoc's limp form.

"Oi!" Sirius yelped, trying to turn so the spell wouldn't hit Caradoc, but he was too slow and it did, the weight of his bulky frame lifting at once. "Oh, right, thanks," he said grudgingly, momentarily dwelling on how stressed they had really been when getting Lily out of the bedroom if none of the four of them had even thought to use a lightening charm. But then Sirius saw that Remus had Fenwick in a fireman's hold and didn't look phased in the slightest, it was no wonder Remus at least hadn't bothered with the extra magic.

Clattering footsteps reached them then, the sound of James and Lily on the metal fire escape pounding their way back down to the street. Sirius hoisted Caradoc more securely, much easier now with Regulus's charm, and set off in the direction of the fire escape too. He paused as he passed his brother, meeting his eyes briefly, but Regulus backed away before Sirius could find the right words to say to him.

Remus had no such problems. "Regulus, come with us," he said, imploringly, "they'll think you were taken hostage, Dumbledore will keep you safe."

"Fucking  _go_ ," Regulus said. He sounded disappointed and disgusted in equal measure as he shoved Remus and Fenwick in Sirius's direction, and turned away.

"But – "

"Go!" Regulus repeated.

They'd barely taken three steps toward the fire escape when Sirius felt the magical thickness in the air lift, then cracks of apparition sounded on all sides. Then as quickly as they'd lifted the wards fell again, more dense than ever.

Fuck.

A rolling sickening cold slipped through Sirius as he realised what that meant. They had mucked around for too long. "Run!" he said, casting around for Remus who was still nearer to Regulus with Fenwick slung over his shoulder and his wand held at the ready. He had just started toward Sirius when a voice filled with cruel amusement stopped him in his tracks.

"More guests this evening," the voice purred, "how nice."

Filled with dread at the sound Sirius turned to see Voldemort standing, tall and black-robed not far from them. He didn't wear a hood like the other three that had appeared with him, the three were masked unlike Regulus. Two were of average build, but the third's black robes billowed around a portly frame. One of the hazards of having middle-aged henchmen, Sirius supposed.

"We are so popular," Voldemort boasted smugly, his voice carried easily across the roof despite his low tone. His bloodless face was like a beacon for Sirius's horrified eyes. He'd only seen Voldemort in the flesh once before, and he didn't think it was the sort of thing you got used to with repetition. "Seize them," Voldemort added, an evil eagerness lighting his features.

Sirius was intent on living past tonight, and if not, he wasn't going down without a fight. He rapidly sent three stunners in the direction of Voldemort and his cronies and backed away as quickly as he could. One spell hit its mark, the chubby one fell to his knees and then face planted heavily.

Voldemort clapped lazily. "Good sport." He had observed the proceedings with mild interest, not even flinching as the spells shot by him. "Though hitting Goyle really isn't a difficult task." He seemed to recognise Sirius then, and stopped the advance of the other two with a casual hand. Then he turned his cold eyes on Regulus. "Ah, this is a reunion is it?"

Regulus spoke finally, his voice wavering, "N-no My Lord, they were trying to rescue the girl."

Sirius took his careful gaze from Voldemort for a moment to look at Regulus. He was horrified to see that his brother had Remus in an upright half-nelson, quite a feat considering Fenwick was still over Remus's shoulder. It didn't seem quite right that scrawny Regulus would be able to restrain Remus at all … but then Regulus pressed his wand to Remus's windpipe, forcing Remus's chin up. Sirius felt ill at the sight, magic knew no physical strength.

Sirius took a step closer to the pair as Regulus continued, "I don't know what's happened to Mulciber and Smyth but I've held these two off best I could alone."

"Very good Black," Voldemort commended. "And against your own brother, admirable loyalty." He summoned one of the still standing Death Eaters to him. "Lestrange, go and check on our hostages, find out what those two are doing in there."

As Voldemort spoke, Sirius saw Regulus whispering hurriedly in Remus's ear, Remus's face was blank as he listened. Then after a few seconds he twisted in Regulus's hold, trying fighting him off, but somehow Regulus managed to hold on, and Sirius noticed that in the scuffle they had moved closer to the wall at the edge of the roof. Remus caught Sirius's eye then and twitched his head in a clear indication that going over the wall was their best hope of escape.

 _Regulus was helping them?_  Sirius found this more frightening than the idea of jumping from four storeys up with nothing but the pavement to catch them.

Voldemort seemed to have missed this little exchange, distracted by the last Death Eater, who must have been Travers, murmuring something to him. Sirius caught the words  _"My wife's dalliance,"_  and it made him wonder if Mrs Travers liked to entertain the younger Death Eater's privately sometimes. Swanning about in her little robe with burly men lurking in the hallways did strike Sirius as strangely provocative for a woman of her age.

Sirius took a couple of steps backwards, his back hit the waist high wall, and he tightened his arm around Caradoc's legs, hoping he'd be able to maintain his grip on him when he jumped. Remus still had Fenwick held tightly too. He struggled against Regulus again, and they reached the wall in the kerfuffle.

Then, before Sirius even had time to prepare himself Voldemort gave an impatient sigh and lifted his wand. "Why must I do everything?" he said with an air of complaint. Though as he took several steps nearer and looked between Sirius and Remus, as if deciding who to take out first, his expression was one of enjoyment, rather than impatience.

Neither of the Marauders hesitated. Sirius flung himself backward into nothingness, toppling over the wall and tumbling head over heels through the air. Remus had done the same, both of them clung to their unconscious burdens, and Remus yelled, "Apparate!"

Sirius didn't need telling twice, he twisted in the air, his fingernails digging into the back of Caradoc's thigh as he focused with all his might on Pinfold. His last fleeting vision was of Voldemort's pale snakelike head poking over the edge of the roof above, silhouetted by the black sky as he fired a spell from his wand that chased Remus and Fenwick into apparition.

* * *

_Blood._

It was the first thing Sirius registered when the constriction of apparition lifted. It flew through the air like some kind of macabre water spout, lit from behind by a solitary streetlamp. Sirius thought he must be hallucinating. Then he only knew pain as he hit the ground with an almighty crash, his breath leaving him in a vision stealing gasp, and the weight of Caradoc flopping down on top of him only made it worse. He lay there, stunned and severely disturbed as little red drops fell from the sky, splattering onto his face, and speckling Caradoc's arm where it hung limply across Sirius's chest.

_Was it raining blood?_

Sirius wheezed in a breath, his lungs had lost the ability to expand, and his head spun from lack of oxygen. He tried again, pushing Caradoc off him to lie face up on the grass beside Sirius.

_Grass?_

Sirius turned his head and saw they had landed on the grass verge next to Pinfold's driveway.

"Sirius!" Remus's croaking voice called from nearby. He sounded weird, frightened even. Sirius sat up, and he was able to take a deeper breath, his faculties began to return, and the last few minutes came back to him with gut-twisting clarity; Regulus, Voldemort, jumping, falling, Voldemort's spell, blood in the air…

" _Remus_ ," Sirius rasped, beginning to panic that it was Remus's blood, that he'd splinched himself terribly. Sirius got on his hands and knees to crawl in Remus's direction, knowing that walking wasn't going to be an option with his head spinning the way it was. But then he pulled up short, confronted with the most horrifically gruesome thing he'd ever seen.

Sitting in a pool of unnatural yellow light cast by the street lamp at Pinfold's gate was Remus, thankfully whole. But he was propped up against the lamppost and clutching a blood covered severed leg to his chest. Remus's clothes and skin were all dotted and smeared with more blood, and he looked like he was about to scream, but couldn't quite manage it. The more Sirius looked as he crawled nearer, the more his stomach turned, there were bits of flesh and chunks of person… of  _Fenwick_ … scattered all around them.


	14. Part 4: IV

It was nearing two in the morning as Sirius waited for Caradoc to wake up. They’d been back at Headquarters for an hour and a half, and the place was pretty deserted, the party mood that had filled the house earlier gone. The parlour had been tidied up once more, and only Dorcas, Emmilene Vance and Sturgis Podmore remained on site. The latter two had been on the mission to Travers’s but had no luck getting in. They were on watch duty that evening and both sat next to the fire in the parlour listening to the large wooden wireless turned down low.  Sirius remained in the medi-room. He sat on the edge of his unconscious friend’s bed, dreading the moment when Dorcas’s wide-eye potion kicked in, and he would have to tell Caradoc that Benjy Fenwick had been blasted to bits.

Remus was in quarantine at the other end of the room. Dorcas had informed them brusquely that getting covered in another human's innards was a good way to get sick. Then she’d disappeared behind the curtained-off area where Remus was hidden, carrying a bucket of soapy water and her wand. Despite all the horrible seriousness of the night, a bashful Remus being sponge-bathed by the no-nonsense Dorcas was a very entertaining mental picture to Sirius. Marlene lay still and quiet on the bed next to Caradoc’s. She was going to be okay, Dorcas assured them.  She just needed a bit of time to heal before waking up.

Sirius drummed his fingers on his thigh; he’d always been terrible at waiting, and when he was anxious he was even more impatient than usual. He continued to fidget as he sat next to Caradoc’s blanketed legs, he contemplated giving the unconscious man a horse-bite to speed the waking process along, but managed to resist. Getting punched in the face by a startled and bleary-headed part-werewolf seemed like a pretty shitty way to end a very shitty night.

The medi-room beds were higher than normal ones, and Sirius’s feet didn’t reach the floor from his perch. It made him feel like a little kid as he swung them back and forward, trying to find a way to distract himself. His eyes fell on Caradoc’s peaceful face. He had been cleaned up, but his bumps and scrapes from the fight with the Death Eaters were still very visible. Dorcas’s healing magic took a bit longer to fix him, just like it did with Remus.

Caradoc’s relaxed features made him look strange to Sirius, the man was always so animated. Whether he was amused or frustrated his face always showed it. To see him without a crooked up smile or concerned furrowed eyebrows left him vacant of his personality. _At least he isn’t vacant of life though_ , Sirius thought again, as he had so many times since they’d arrived back at Headquarters. If Voldemort had aimed at Sirius instead of Remus… It didn’t bear thinking about.   

They were so lucky that it had been Regulus who had found them on the roof. Sirius wondered if his brother was responsible for any of the injuries marring Caradoc’s slack face. There was a particularly nasty bluish bump on his left temple—no doubt the hit that'd knocked him out—a few other shadows were showing at his jaw, and he had a split lip to top it off. The poor bugger was going to be in pain when he woke up, and there were likely to be more injures covered by the clean pyjamas he’d been dressed in earlier, while Sirius had been busy sitting with Remus.

Remus had been in shock pretty badly by the time they got inside, not a surprising reaction after someone had literally exploded all over him. The two of them had just sat in silence on the bed Remus had been directed to while Dorcas tended to Marlene and then Caradoc. They had held hands the entire time, their fingers linked tightly together, even when James, Lily, and Pete came in to see how Remus was before going home. No one commented on it though, possibly they just thought Remus needed comfort and hand-holding was preferable to hugging a bloke with bits of other bloke still stuck to him.

Sirius still couldn’t believe the risk Regulus had taken for them that night. Maybe he really had changed … or was at least wavering from the old family line. He’d protected _Remus_ for goodness sake, and though Regulus didn’t know Remus was a werewolf he _definitely_ knew he had a muggle mother, and was therefore not worth risking anything for in the face of Voldemort, if you shared his beliefs. There was no way for Regulus to know how much respect he had gained from Sirius by pretending to restrain Remus. Sirius wished he’d been able to say something; tell his brother that Remus was incomparably important to him now.

 A horrible possibility struck Sirius then, as the vision of Voldemort’s furious face glaring at them over the edge of the roof flitted through his mind again. Regulus had been left alone on that roof top with an angry Voldemort. Would Voldemort have taken his rage at all the escapes out on Regulus? Could he have been killed or tortured in a fit of pique by Voldemort for failing to hold Remus prisoner?

Sirius’s fretful musing was interrupted by a dry croaking groan from Caradoc's direction. “ _Mother of Merlin_ ,” he rasped as his eyelids fluttered open, Caradoc was awake at last.

 “Hey,” Sirius greeted him, his gratitude for the distraction from Regulus and his situation made him sound almost cheerful. But his heart kicked up nervously as Caradoc’s eyes lost their disorientation and focused on him. Now that the moment he’d been waiting for had finally arrived, he had no idea what to say. “How do you feel?” Sirius asked, to delay the morbid conversation just a bit.

Caradoc began to push himself up in bed, but he sucked in a pained breath and stopped suddenly, his left hand clutching at his side as he eased back down. “Was I dying?” Caradoc asked through gritted teeth, giving up on moving altogether and staying propped up on his elbow.

“Nah,” Sirius assured him as he jumped down from the bed to grab an extra pillow. Next to the fireplace with all its protruding herb-drying racks was an airing cupboard filled with spare linen. “You were just knocked around a bit.” Sirius slotted the new pillow behind Caradoc’s shoulders and then resumed his spot on the edge of the bed while the injured man got comfortable.

“Thanks,” Caradoc murmured sheepishly, an inscrutable expression on his face. Sirius expected that requiring help wasn’t something Caradoc was particularly used too.

“Do you feel that bad though?” he asked, wondering why Caradoc would be concerned that he was fatally injured. “Like dying bad?”

Caradoc shook his head minutely and then winced, “No … I was just surprised you’re here, thought I must have been really bad if –“ He broke off awkwardly.

“Nah,” Sirius said again. He’d not considered that being there when Caradoc woke was strange, they’d been good mates for ages hadn't they? “It’s just your funky blood slowing things down,” he said lightly, “should be good in no time.”

Caradoc gave him an odd half smile, he looked more confused than anything else. “So then, you’re sitting on my bed because...?”

Sirius really didn’t know how to start, he looked at his knees briefly and then forced himself to make eye-contact. “I’m so sorry,” he began, because he really was, more than anything he was sorry about what had happened tonight, that he’d been unable to prevent it.

The humour in Caradoc’s face died, he understood at once that Sirius was there to give him bad news. “Oh fuck,” he breathed, “Didn’t we get them? Evans and Mackinnon are they–”

Sirius shook his head, and the lightening in his chest at the reminder of Lily’s safety made him hate himself a little. Fenwick’s life, or lack of, _should_ have been equally important, but it wasn’t to him, no matter how hard he tried. “Lily’s fine, Marlene too.” He gestured to Marlene’s sleeping form one bed over, and Caradoc turned his head reluctantly to see her there. “It’s Fen- _Benjy_ ,” Sirius corrected, it felt rude not to use his first name now he was gone, “Voldemort turned up before we could get away, he cursed Benjy, killed him instantly.”

Caradoc drew an audible gasp, then said a little too loudly, “Benjy’s d-dead?” He stumbled over the two little words, then his lips trembled, and he pressed them together firmly. The pressure leached the pink skin of colour, and the puffy split in his bottom lip leaked a tiny bubble of blood. His hand twisted in the sheet across his lap, scrunching it up in his tight fist.

Sirius patted Caradoc’s knee, he knew the two older Order members had been fighting lately. Even he himself had had a short bout of guilt over the number of times he’d given Fenwick the evil eye during the last six months. But Benjy and Caradoc had been watch partners for three years previous to their recent falling out, that was the sort of bond that didn’t fade no matter personal differences.

“We tried,” Sirius said, feeling the need to defend himself, to clarify that there had been no way to alter what had happened, “but we were outnumbered, he was knocked-out, he wouldn’t have felt any pain.” Sirius had meant well, staying there to break the news, but he wondered now if it had been a wise idea. He was so shit at stuff like this. “It could have so easily been you,” he continued quietly, “when we jumped from the roof, Voldemort could have aimed for me instead of Remus, his curse could have hit you instead of Fenwick.”

Caradoc looked lost, his eyes shined with restrained emotion, and his eyebrows drew in with incomprehension. “I don’t–“

“We had to carry you,” Sirius explained carefully, “whatever the Death Eaters stunned you with couldn’t be broken by _Enervate_ , so James and Lily took Marlene because she was hurt worst and ran for it, Remus and I carried you two heffalumps.” Caradoc’s mouth gave a shaky twitch at the mild insult. “But then Voldemort got there, we were on the roof in that mad garden, we were cornered and the anti-disap jinx didn’t lift so we jumped off the roof and disapparated outside the wards in mid-air. Voldemort cursed Benjy right before we disappeared. He was dead when we landed here.”

Silence stretched between them, and Sirius could hear the sloshing of water and put-upon mumbling coming from behind the curtain at the other end of the room as he waited for some kind of response.

“Thanks,” Caradoc said eventually, his voice low, “For waiting here I mean, I know everyone else thinks Ben and I just got sick of each other lately, but you know it wasn’t just a petty squabble, you get it.” Caradoc frowned down at the bed sheet he’d scrunched up in his fist and set about straightening it as he continued, “I mean he really believed that I could just change who I am, to him gay just meant no real commitments, no settling down with a family, no growing up. I’ve been struggling to be civil when he’d get going about it, so we needed a break from so much contact.”

“That’s fucked up,” Sirius said, “I didn’t realise he was that against it.”

“I don’t even know if he was.” Caradoc looked at Sirius again, genuinely puzzled. “I think he just thought I was too _lazy_ to relate to women, enjoyed the single life too much or something. God it fucked me off so badly.” He gave a hollow little laugh. “And now I can’t even argue with him about it anymore.” Caradoc’s voice broke on the last word as he shut his eyes and bowed his head. Sirius saw one, two, three tears spill and hit the now neatly folded sheet in his lap. “I was sure I’d convince him eventually,” he murmured in defeat.

Sirius had no idea what to say. It was unnerving to see Caradoc less than composed, his shoulders were hunched in, and he was clearly hurting, losing a long-time compatriot never got any easier. Let alone if you weren't on good terms. Sirius shuffled up the side of the bed so that he could envelope Caradoc in a hug, it was the only thing he could think to do.

It was the right thing apparently. Caradoc’s left arm wound around Sirius’s back, and he held on tight as he tucked his damp face into Sirius’s shoulder. A few hastily repressed shudders shook his frame, but he managed to keep himself under control. He let out a heavy breath, and Sirius felt the warmth of it skim across his throat and collarbone, it made him suddenly aware of how very intimate the situation was.

He immediately wondered if he should even be hugging Caradoc at all, but then that thought wouldn’t have even crossed his mind if it was James or Pete, or even Lily these days, since girls seemed to hold less interest than ever for him. Did the fact that he was even considering whether hugging Caradoc was inappropriate or not, make it inappropriate? Did he even care if it was? _Merlin, I’m losing my mind,_ Sirius thought dejectedly.

As Sirius battled with the ethics of bodily contact with a hot bloke who was not his boyfriend, Caradoc continued to embrace him. He was clearly drawing comfort from it in the face of his grief. _I’m just being a good mate,_ Sirius told himself firmly, but he was all too aware of the firm press of Caradoc’s hand at his back and the soft tickle of his messy blond hair against his cheek. It wasn’t long before Caradoc released him though, grimacing at the pain of moving and looking embarrassed again. Sirius gave him an understanding little grin, he’d be fucking mortified to cry in front of anyone bar Remus, James, or Pete, and honestly, even Pete was a stretch. 

Caradoc returned the smile tentatively. “Christ, Black,” he sighed, surprising Sirius by sounding disappointed, “I swear you just like to get my ho –“

“Er –“ a voice interrupted, cutting Caradoc off. “I’m ready to go when you are Padfoot.” Remus stood at the end of the bed. He was Fenwick-free and looked horribly resigned as he took in the two men on the bed.

Sirius scooted away from Caradoc as if burnt. “Moony,” he said quickly, “Dorcas said you can go?”

Remus nodded, not meeting Sirius’s eyes. He was focused on Caradoc who looked quite wretched – sad and guilty all at once.

“I’m sorry about Benjy,” Remus said to Caradoc, so sincerely that Sirius wondered if he was just imagining the uncomfortable atmosphere, his own guilty conscience playing tricks on him.

“Me too,” Caradoc said, recovering his normal tone with an obvious effort, “thank god you lot don’t follow the rules, otherwise we’d probably be mourning more than one loss tonight. The Order is lucky to have you.” Remus’s closed expression faded at the praise, he’d always been a sucker for a complement, and Caradoc’s words were incredibly earnest.

Sirius glanced at the bed-ridden man again, and Caradoc just waved him away. “Go home,” he said, “you’ve done your bit, I’m grateful.” Then he lowered his voice and added, “Go home and shag last night out of your head, it’s the best cure for this shit.” 

Sirius couldn’t help but grin a little, Caradoc was obviously feeling a bit better if he was back to embarrassing Sirius by talking about sex.

* * *

 

Less than twenty minutes later Sirius led the way up the stairs to his flat. He was very keen to just get inside and pretend everything that had happened after he and Remus'd stumbled out of the scullery earlier in the evening was just a bad dream.

Remus broke the weary silence as they trudged upwards with heavy feet. “That was very thoughtful of you.”

“What was?” Sirius asked, too tired to try and pick which of the slew of selfless things he’d done that evening deserved commenting on. He turned to look at Remus as they reached the landing.

“Making sure Caradoc heard the news from you,” Remus clarified, and even in his worn-out state Sirius could sense that Remus was unhappy, although Sirius couldn’t tell if it was related to the topic of conversation or not. Sirius opened the door to his flat, and as Remus passed him into the pitch-black sitting room he went on, “You’re a very good friend to him.”

“I guess.” Sirius shrugged, trying to brush it off as he crossed the dark room to pull the cord for the ceiling lamp. _Circe, I shouldn’t feel so bloody guilty,_ he thought, _I’ve done nothing wrong,_ but at least he had an excuse to give Remus. “I feel like I owe him, you know?” he said, as the light clicked on and revealed his sitting room. Sirius’d even made an effort to tidy up since he knew Remus was coming back to London. “Without him we couldn’t have stayed in touch while you were away.”

Sirius didn’t wait for a reply, hoping Remus would just leave it at that. He went to the kitchen to put the kettle on because as tired as he was, he didn’t think his brain would shut down enough for sleep just yet. Remus followed him silently, leaning against the doorframe to watch Sirius get cups out and scavenge some teabags from the bottom of the tin. Sirius smiled wearily at him, and said honestly, “I think I might have gone completely fucking loopy without your letters.”

“You’re not the only one,” Remus agreed, and for a second Sirius thought everything was fine, but then Remus said, entirely too casually, “It’s just … I mean I can see why James is convinced you two are –“

“Don’t Moony,” Sirius said shortly, there was no way he could handle this conversation again, “he was fucking _crying_ so I gave him a hug, that’s all.”

“I know,” Remus said, thoroughly chastened by Sirius’s harshness, “I know that’s all it is to you, but I think he–“

“Docy is the only person who knows I’m _not_ single,” Sirius cut him off. “Why would he waste his time? Merlin, he could have anyone he wants.”

“Why?” Remus said, and he sounded angry too now, though he was better at hiding it than Sirius. His words were more clipped, more deliberate than usual. “Because he’s fit?”

“Of course because he’s _fit_ ,” Sirius snapped, slamming the tea tin down on the counter, “and a genuinely decent bloody person.”

Even as he spoke Sirius was willing himself to just shut his stupid mouth, unfortunately not his forte. He carried on, feeling slightly hysterical, “But he can’t have me even if he _did_ want me, because I love _you_ , even though you are a sodding jealous twat.” He glared at Remus who looked completely shocked. “Got it?” Sirius added pointedly before making the angriest cups of tea on the planet.

He threw the tea bags at the cups, dumped too much sugar in his own one and then sloshed the water in so violently it splashed up the side of the mug and pooled on the counter top. He was stirring them with a spoon-clinking fury when Remus spoke quietly.

“Oh,” he said faintly, “You do?”                                    

Sirius looked up from his beverage massacre, only then realising what he’d actually said. Remus’s stunned expression was giving way to a rapidly widening smile. The ever-present worry lines on his face faded until he was practically beaming.

Sirius felt the corner of his mouth pull-up in response, his frustration melting away as he absorbed the delightful effect his admission had had on Remus. But he still replied a bit self-consciously, “Yeah… I do, it hit me in the kitchen at Headquarters tonight, just about blurted it out right then in front of James and Pete.”

Remus gave a little laugh, looking younger than Sirius had seen since school. “Should’ve, might have shocked Prongs out of his hysterics.”

“Might have given him new ones,” Sirius suggested, and Remus nodded at the very good point. “We should probably tell him soon,” Sirius said, “he’s going to be weird enough about it, let alone if he knows we were hiding it from him.”

“I know,” Remus said, but he scrunched his nose in reluctance, “I’ve never had a public relationship, the thought of having everyone know is a bit daunting.”

Sirius frowned at the phrasing. Was Remus saying he’d been in a relationship before, but it had been secret? He remembered Remus telling him on New Year’s Day that he’d kissed another guy before… that had obviously been a secret, maybe that’s all he meant. Sirius could hardly grill him about it though, not after calling Remus jealous over Caradoc. He really didn’t want to have another argument. He dug up a smile for Remus and said, “It’s not _everyone_ , it’s Prongs, and Lily, and Wormtail too I guess, would be weird not to tell him.”

“Yeah you’re right,” Remus agreed. “Do you really think James will be funny about it?

“Yep.” Sirius was certain James would be a giant dick about the whole thing. “But not for long. He doesn’t have any other mates and he can’t live without an audience, Lily will make him get over it when he starts driving her mental.”

“True.” Remus chuckled, he came forward then and picked up the dishtowel from the sink. He set about cleaning up the mess Sirius had made with the tea. “Go and have a shower,” he said, “we can drink our tea in bed like old people, I need to be horizontal pretty bloody soon.”

Sirius didn’t argue, Remus might have been fresh and clean from Dorcas’s ministrations, but Sirius felt manky from hiding in gardens and sweating while lugging unconscious people around all night long. A hot shower sounded like heaven. 

* * *

 

It was heaven it turned out. Powerful water blasted onto Sirius’s back sluicing away all the grime and spewing stream into the small space. Even with Remus in his flat, and possibly in his bed by now Sirius wasn’t in a hurry to get out of the shower. He’d even washed his hair to prolong the experience, something he tended to avoid. Shampoo caused his perfectly respectable shaggy collar-length locks to morph into a shamefully girly-looking pageboy that required a permanent hat for the following three days. But at least this time he could just stay in bed for the rest of the week. He didn’t have watch duty for four more nights, and Remus hadn’t been put on the rotation yet as far as Sirius knew, perhaps they could just keep each other busy until then.

Sirius smirked lazily to himself at the thought of a bed full of Moony for the rest of the week. When he looked down he saw that part of his body was not as tired as he’d thought, brought back to life by his eagerly wandering mind.

“Padfoot?” Remus tapped on the door then, startling Sirius from his contemplation of what he should do about his attention-seeking dick. “Can I come in and brush my teeth?”    

“Sure,” Sirius called back. He didn’t know if being caught with a hard-on would be a good thing, given the traumatic events of the evening… Remus would probably just want to go to sleep. Congratulating himself on yet another self-sacrificing act Sirius pulled the curtain so that it met the wall completely and then turned his back as the door opened.

The sound of the tap running in the sink and then vigorous scrubbing met his ears over the hiss of the shower, and he snuck a look around the curtain. Sirius was pleasantly surprised to see Remus’s bare back bent over the sink, he was wearing pyjama bottoms, but that seemed to be it. He scrubbed at his teeth thoroughly, and Sirius watched the muscles in his shoulder and down his right arm shift with the movement. The view did not help with his persistent erection.

Sirius was still staring when Remus spat his mouthful of foam in the sink and stood upright. He rubbed a clear patch in the fogged up mirror, the skin of his palm squeaked noisily against the glass. Remus checked the corners of his mouth for toothpaste and then grinned broadly as he caught Sirius peeking at him in the reflection. Sirius hastily let the curtain drop back into place and busied himself soaping things that had already been soaped, but the cheeky smile Remus had worn made him try his luck anyway. He began rinsing the soap bubbles away as he said conversationally, “You know Moony, I’ve never really felt like sponge baths were all that effective… maybe you should– “

He didn’t even finish the sentence before the loud grating squeak of the curtain rings on the metal crossbar cut him off.  Remus, now naked, had pushed the curtain open and climbed into the steamy space before Sirius had even turned around.

“Good idea,” Remus said, quite seriously, “never can be too careful.” His eyes dropped to Sirius’s cock then, and Sirius looked down too, pleased to see he was not alone in his horniness. “Hmm,” Remus murmured, “want a hand?”

“Worst. Line. _Ever_ ,” Sirius complained, but he reached for Remus anyway, and he dragged him under the spray from the showerhead, and kissed him with everything he had.

The water made everything feel so different. Standing pressed together completely naked was new too Sirius realised, as he manoeuvred Remus so his back was to the wall. Remus winced as his skin made contact with the cold tile, but he didn’t complain, he just wrapped his fingers around Sirius’s length and pumped his hand firmly. The hot water that rained down on them splashed onto the exposed tip of his dick every time Remus’s hand descended. It seemed crazy, but he swore he could feel every individual drop. The warm water caused Remus’s hand to glide so easily; Sirius could hardly believe that he was so close to climax already – he’d come only five hours before in the scullery at Headquarters, and now a quick rough hand job was going to get him there in less than two minutes? Remus had somehow managed to destroy his stamina.

“I’m gonna come if you keep that up,” Sirius warned, finally focusing enough to get his own grip on Remus’s cock where it had been nudging incessantly at his hip. The silky skin slid smoothly across the slick ridge of his hipbone, over and over. Remus was rocking against him, seeking his own pleasure as he delivered Sirius’s. Sirius let the head of Remus’s prick keep contact with his body while he worked the shaft with his hand. Remus was doing most of the work, thrusting into the circle of Sirius’s fingers, humming sounds of enjoyment against Sirius’s lips.

“That’s sort of the point,” he said, between heavy breaths, “Christ, I’m not far either.” Both his hand and his hips moved faster, and Sirius’s orgasm hit him in a speeding rush. “God,” Remus uttered almost reverently, “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of watching you come.”

Sirius was feeling decidedly dizzy with the power of release in the hot steamy shower, but he persevered. He wanked Remus’s dick more firmly and trailed his mouth up his neck, his tongue lapping at the droplets of water that clung to the skin. Remus clearly enjoyed it, he tilted his head back to give Sirius more skin to lick. “Pads, god, _ungh_ ,” he grunted as Sirius twisted his hand the way Remus always did to him. He did it again and again until Remus was biting his lip and thrusting erratically. His eyes were closed, and his head was back against the wall, but his orgasm seemed just out of reach.

“Hey,” Sirius whispered, as an idea struck him. Remus’s eyes opened slowly, the lids heavy and his pupils wide, Sirius’s teeth grazed his earlobe as he said temptingly, “Do you want to try something new?”

“Like what?” Remus panted, looking so desperate to finish, but for some reason he was struggling to get there – exhaustion or trauma, Merlin, for all Sirius knew Remus’d wanked off ten times before arriving back in London yesterday afternoon. Sirius had certainly done his fair share during their separation. 

“Remember our conversation earlier?” Sirius said suggestively. His tricep had begun to burn with the repetitive tugging motion, but he didn’t slow, not now that Remus was nearly there.

Remus’s eyes grew wide, and Sirius knew he was recalling their tryst in the scullery and the graphic descriptions he’d heard.

“Y-you want to … _here_?” Remus asked, his voice strained a little, and he locked eyes with Sirius for a second. But then with a sudden gasp he stilled, his cock pulsed against Sirius’s palm, and he came all over Sirius’s hip and stomach in jerking bursts. He let out a groan of mixed relief and something like disappointment. “God damn it!” he huffed, and glared down at his softening dick with displeasure, “Traitor,” he mumbled to it.

Sirius chuckled smugly as Remus leaned against him. “I knew I could crack you with that.”

“It’s not a _competition_.” Remus sighed, floppy and heavy and perfect on Sirius’s shoulder. He was quiet for a moment. “Well, I don’t feel like I lost anyway,” he added contentedly.

* * *

 

Despite falling asleep quickly, all wrapped up in cosy bedding and pliant Remus-limbs Sirius found himself resolutely awake again in the early hours of the morning.

He’d woken from a dream in which a replay of the scene on Travers’s roof had been on a loop: Remus restrained, Voldemort coming nearer, Regulus and Remus scuffling, the black expanse of sky above him as he fell before disapparition. But with each repetition of the scene the struggle between Remus and Regulus became more serious, more violent, and in the last one that he’d seen before his eyes snapped open Regulus had been holding a muggle handgun to Remus’s temple.

Sirius lay quietly on his back, his hands folded on his chest. He was sure that their old Divination Professor would have had a field day with the symbolism if Sirius had put this nightmare in his dream journal. The loyal Black heir using a muggle weapon to threaten his disowned brother’s closeted half-breed boyfriend? It practically screamed ‘ _repressed_ _issues.’_ But Sirius just couldn’t shake the feeling that it was actually his mind trying to convince him that Regulus was changing, that he was more accepting of an alternative if it was for the best.

Remus stirred beside him then, he shifted closer, and Sirius saw that his eyes were open. He wondered how long he’d been awake for. “I knew he wouldn’t do it,” Remus said softly, sliding his arm across Sirius’s stomach as he snuggled in.

“Who wouldn’t?” Sirius asked, suddenly suspicious that Remus had learnt legilimency without telling him. He unfolded his hands so he could loop his arm behind Remus’s back. He felt infinitely better about his possible … _probable_ , repressed issues with Remus’s cheek resting against his chest, his warm sleep-soft body as close as it was possible to be, protecting him from whatever imagined boogie-men waited to get him next time he tried to fall asleep.

“Reg, on the roof,” Remus clarified, “you’ve been muttering about it in your sleep for the last half an hour.”

“Oh... right,”  Sirius said, surprised Remus was so keen to talk about it, “How could you know he wouldn’t though? I’d like to think the best too but he’s brainwashed just like the rest of them, if Voldemort had told him to kill you he probably would have done it in a heartbeat.”

“I don’t think so,” Remus contradicted him, “he’s not as weak as you seem to think.”

“He’s my brother, I know exactly how weak he is,” Sirius said heavily as he remembered all the times Regulus had stood by while Sirius was ‘disciplined’ by their father. “Why are you defending him anyway?” he asked. Remus did tend to champion anyone who needed it but Regulus hardly did. Then an odd thought struck him. “He called you Remus,” Sirius said; that was definitely weird now that he thought about it. Upper-class boys lived on surname terms, it was their identity, their social rank displayed blatantly for everyone to hear. 

“So?” Remus said.

“So he still calls James _Potter_ , and he’s known him forever.”

“Regulus and I were prefects together Sirius.” Sirius had forgotten this, hell, half the time he forgot that Remus had even been a prefect. He wasn’t ever a very effective one when it came to his friends. “We had to co-operate with each other, we were –“

“What?” Sirius interrupted, looking down at the sandy head on his chest in disbelief. “You were _friends_ with him? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Really?” Remus asked ironically, lifting his head enough so that he could send Sirius an implication-filled raised eyebrow. “He just stopped both of us from being killed and you can’t accept that we … that we got along, what would you have said a year ago?”

Sirius knew what he would have said. He would have told Remus he’d betrayed him, that Regulus was a slimy little Snivellus worshiper and that Remus was banned from ever speaking to him, Regulus that is, ever again. _Merlin I was such a self-righteous twat,_ Sirius thought regretfully.

“Probably exactly what you thought I would,” he mumbled. “You were good mates?”

“Yeah, we have a surprising amount in common,” Remus said, putting his head down again.

“Like what?”

“Like pressure to prove ourselves, like constantly having to be the wet blanket.” He paused and said softly,” “Like not being able to have what we wanted from you.”

“You told him that you’re …” Sirius trailed off, he didn’t know why it was still so bloody hard to say the word aloud, but it just was.

“Gay?” Remus finished for him, sounding like he wanted to roll his eyes. “Yes Sirius, well, he figured it out. He knew I was in love with you, and that I thought it was hopeless and completely unrequited.”

_God Remus really knows how to make me feel like shit,_ Sirius thought dispiritedly _,_ despite the confirmation that Remus returned his feelings,  “But what did Reg want from me?”

Remus gave him a very sad look. “His brother.”

“But he hated me,” Sirius argued, wondering if Regulus just said that to get Remus on his good side. But what would be the point in that?

“Well, you hated him first, denounced him to anyone who would ask,” Remus countered, and Sirius opened his mouth to defend himself, but Remus rubbed his hand soothingly over his stomach and said, “I know that you had to separate yourself from your family, you wouldn’t be _you_ if you hadn’t, but Reggie was cut pretty deep by it all at the time.”

Remus’s hand kept up its calming circles, and Sirius couldn’t help but feel like Padfoot getting a belly rub. “And he told you?” he asked, surprised that Regulus would be so open about something like that, “You talked about feelings and stuff?”

Remus nodded against his shoulder. “We both needed it, I could hardly talk you or James, the kings of chauvinism-“

“Hey!” Sirius interjected, a bit offended, “I know we were idiots, but we would have–“

Remus made a sceptical little noise before he said, “You would have been okay with me coming to you in sixth year to tell you I was gay and had a giant crush on you?”

_Nope,_ Sirius thought, _I would have freaked out_. “I don’t know,” he said hesitantly, “maybe not at first but I wouldn’t-“

Remus snorted derisively. “That’s if you’d had time to talk to me in-between bedding every girl that gave you the smallest bit of attention.”

Sirius felt his mouth fall open, shocked by the hidden hostility in Remus’s accusation. “I can’t change the past Remus,” he said, hating that he couldn’t, but Remus didn’t get to be mad at him for it, that wasn’t fair.

“Yeah.” Remus exhaled heavily, his confrontational tone morphing to regret. “Neither can I,” he murmured forlornly.

Sirius couldn’t let this lie, this old tension between them he hadn't even been aware of. He had to make Remus understand.

“Rem,” he started as calmly as he could. “I was dealing with my own shit then, it terrified me that every girl I was with wasn’t enough, there was never that _thing_ , that feeling people talk about.” Sirius’d never said this aloud before, he’d barely even allowed himself to think about it for too long until recently. “I just thought I hadn’t found the right one yet, but then I realised I had these weird mixed up feelings for you, and I shouldn’t, and you wouldn’t, and then you kissed me on the train and I felt it.”

Sirius paused. The words were trying to tumble out of his mouth, like a confession that had been building for weeks, for months, and he was frightened of what he’d say next. His heart picked up at the thought of Remus knowing how messed up he really was right now.

“It was like I could never kiss you enough,” he admitted. “That I'd never need anything else. Merlin, Remus you’ve known me for eight years, have you ever seen me like this? I feel like I’m going to explode or collapse or have a nervous fucking breakdown every bloody day, I’m wound so fucking tight.”

Sirius struggled to draw breath as he finished speaking, the panic at the truth flooding out of his mouth began to set in, but then Remus moved, sitting up and leaning in to plant a slow and steady kiss on his quaking lips. It helped, the longer they kissed the calmer Sirius felt.

Eventually Remus pulled back a few centimetres. “Padfoot,” he said very gently, “what are you worried about? I’m here, I just told you I’ve been in love with you since we were sixteen, nothing could get me to stop this now that I’ve finally got you.”

“Everything, I’m scared of everything,” Sirius said to the ceiling, grasping onto Remus’s hand, “I’ve never had anything like this to lose, and now I do and there’s a maniac out there who really likes to ruin lives, I’m–“

“Have you warded the flat?” Remus interrupted bluntly.

Sirius blinked, confused at the incongruent question. “Yeah, of course…”

“Then we’re safe,” Remus said simply before he kissed him again, more heatedly this time, but he stopped after a minute to say firmly, “Me and you Sirius, it’s good. We’re good.”     

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be it for a little while, I'm working on some other things and don't want to rush this fic and end up posting sub-par chapters.   
> I will return to it as soon as I can though, I freaking looove working on this story.  
>  Leave me some love please gorgeous readers!!
> 
> George xx


	15. Part 5: I

The village of Hogsmeade was picturesque on a winter evening. The February air was crisp and still, and the houses and shops all wore a good foot of clean white snow on their roofs. Sirius had a decent vantage point to admire the town, as he leaned out of an upstairs window at _The Rusty Nail_ to smoke his cigarette. He, James and Peter were all staying at the Inn for the night. They were here to surprise Remus, who would be returning from another trip to the wolves tomorrow.

Sirius watched thin clouds scud across the moon as he exhaled. To his eye it looked full, it was white and shining bright, reflecting on the bluish snow that had gathered on every near-horizontal surface. But it wasn't full yet. That's why they were in Hogsmeade, because tomorrow night they would be accompanying Remus in the Shrieking Shack.

Dumbledore had suggested that it would best to keep Remus safe, and others, if he were to return to the shack for his transformations now that he wasn't living with the pack. Sirius was glad of this; the winter nights were long, and the wolf had more time to stew and hurt itself, so being near to the practiced hands of Madam Pomfrey seemed like a good idea for Remus's health.

But Remus didn't know that the three of them had arranged to be there, because he hadn't asked Sirius, not even mentioned facing the moon alone since his return from the pack. Sirius knew he'd had a rough time locked up in his parents old cellar while he'd been with them for the January full, and it hurt in way, that Remus didn't ask him to be there, like he'd come to depend on while they'd been at school. So this month he wasn't getting a choice.

James had leapt at the idea. He had pretty severe cabin fever since he was still on low exposure duties; his flat or headquarters, and polyjuice for non-dangerous missions (mostly the dreaded hedge-watching). Pete too had been a little off, his mum was quite high maintenance at the best of times but now because she was ill and concerned about "that dangerous lot" (Sirius didn't know if this meant the Death Eaters who were dangerous to all wizardkind, or the Order who it was dangerous to be part of). Either way, Pete rarely got a pass to leave her unattended. This night with Remus had come to be something of a fix for all of them, freedom, excitement (without risk of surprise _Avada Kedavra_ -ing) and good old tradition.

At that moment James and Pete were still playing cards in the tiny little parlor that their rooms all adjoined. They'd booked all five of the sleeping quarters so that James would be unseen by random guests, and so that they had the place to themselves.

It was just as James said loudly, "Pay up Petey, queens over eights!" that two voices drifted up to Sirius from the cobbled street below his open window, two voices he knew at once. He braced his cigarette-free hand on the wooden frame and leaned out the window eagerly to see if his ears were playing tricks on him.

"How can they be fully booked?" the first voice said incredulously, "It's Hogsmeade in the middle of winter, there's no one around!"

Sirius grinned as the speaker came into view; a disgruntled looking Remus was hidden beneath a knobbly knitted hat and the collar of his bulky parker. Caradoc walked next to him, he'd been on the trip to take supplies to wolves this time, easing them into human contact one quarter-breed at a time. Caradoc was rugged up warm too, his wooly hat pulled so low that it nearly obscured his eyes.

Sirius stubbed his smoke in the accumulated snow on the sill and then put his fingers in his mouth to give a short but piercing whistle. He winced as the sound seemed to bounce off the nearby buildings, amplifying in volume. Both Remus and Caradoc spun in his direction at once, wands drawn with lightning fast speed. First they looked at ground-level, then lifted their eyes to see him hanging out the inn's second story window.

"Padfoot?" Remus blurted out in shock, his wand arm dropping, just as Caradoc said, " _Black?_ " Both were obviously taken by surprise. "Are you trying to wake the whole town up?" Remus admonished, but he looked pleased to see him.

"Sorry," Sirius replied, and then couldn't resist adding, "wolf-whistle?"

Remus's sceptical eyebrow lift was visible even at a distance, and Caradoc snickered into his gloved fist as he stowed his wand.

"You better have space for me up there," Remus said, almost accusing, "I've got nowhere to sleep tonight."

"That is the most unromantic proposition I've ever heard," Caradoc criticised lightly, still chuckling at Sirius's bad joke. Remus turned his stern expression on him and said something quietly that Sirius couldn't hear, but it made Caradoc burst out into a loud guffaw that echoed nearly as badly as Sirius's whistle had.

"Wait there," Sirius called, eagerly, "I'll be right down."

Sirius left the little bedroom quickly, leaving his window wide open in his haste to get downstairs. In the parlor James was cleaning Peter out, to judge by the pile of gold on his side of the table.

"What's the rush?" James asked, as Sirius shot across the room.

"Moony's here!" Sirius sang joyfully, "Got back early."

"Brilliant!" Peter said, dropping his cards as he stood from the table, but James remained sitting and gave Peter's discarded hand a significant look.

"Nice try Wormtail, but you gotta finish the hand no matter how shit your cards."

"Fine," Peter huffed dispiritedly, plonking back into his seat with a heavy flump. "But we're playing Whilst next, and _I'm_ pairing with Remus."

Sirius laughed as he opened the door and checked the landing. "Sounds like we'll both be skint by the end of the night, Prongs." But even the thought of losing most of his gold couldn't smother his buoyant feeling right then.

"There's a reason I never play cards when Remus is around," James groaned, "the Potter vault isn't actually bottomless you realise."

Peter smiled smugly to himself as he reorganised his hand, and Sirius left the room to the sound of James's mutters about jammy, cheating werewolves.

Sirius hurried down the creaking inn staircase, nodding to the dozing bloke behind the front desk. Then he stepped out into the street, and flipped his collar up against the chilly wind at once. Remus and Caradoc were just where he'd left them, and he jogged in their direction, not wanting to be out there any longer than necessary.

Both men came toward him as he approached and Remus gave him a loaded little smirk in welcome, but didn't actually say anything. It was enough though, every time Remus returned safely Sirius felt like he'd won some kind of prize. The war wasn't going to break them, he wouldn't let it.

"Hey Docy," Sirius said, pleased to see him again too, they'd not seen much of each other during the last two weeks since Fenwick had been killed. "Have fun on the trip?"

Caradoc grinned. "I did. Nice to have company out in the wilderness for a change, and Remus's bunch are good sorts. But I'll leave you to it. I'm looking forward to a soft bed." He clapped a hand to Remus's shoulder, and said, "Good job out there mate." Then he jogged Sirius with his elbow, leering playfully. "Have a good night you two."

Sirius flipped him off in farewell but couldn't stop his lips curling in amusement.

"I swear you two are in cahoots," Remus mused grumpily from beside him, as they watched Caradoc leave, "he was the one who wanted to come back here tonight."

" _Cahoots?_ " Sirius repeated with a snigger. "I thought you'd been in the forest, not the nineteen twenties."

"Shut up," Remus laughed, shoving Sirius in the chest, but rather than make Sirius retreat the touch just made him realise how much he'd missed the causal constant contact of having a boyfriend _._ He grinned dopily for a second as this thought occurred.

"We booked out upstairs so that no one would accidentally see James," he said, trying to refocus, "I didn't know you were planning on staying here tonight. I thought you'd be up at the school."

Remus had stepped closer to him as he talked, and he looked around the deserted frozen street before giving him a quick kiss. "You're all here? Why?"

"For tomorrow night. Why else?" Sirius murmured, trying to catch Remus's lips again, but he'd leaned away, looking concerned.

"You didn't need to do that," he said carefully, "What about the Order?"

"Fuck 'em,"—Sirius shrugged honestly—"the mood's pretty grim in London right now, and then Pete asked why we weren't doing moons together now that you're back so we decided we would." Remus still didn't look convinced. "It's only two nights away, James is going bonkers under Dumbledore's orders, Pete too with his mum, and I really fucking missed you, so here we are."

Remus's heavy expression softened at Sirius's admission. "I shouldn't be surprised I guess, you never did give a shit about consequences."

"I did!" Sirius argued at once, but then he shook his head, knowing it wasn't true. "No I didn't ... but I do now?" he tried, but Remus wasn't buying it. Sirius shrugged again. "What could go wrong?"

Remus gave a little sigh, he was clearly dealing with his old internal struggle- sensible and responsible over fun and companionship. "No leaving the shack," he said firmly, directly meeting Sirius's eyes, " I mean it."

"Sure," Sirius promised, trying to mask his disappointment, both at Remus's lack of enthusiasm for company, and being shut in all night. "Whatever you want, Moony."

Remus seemed satisfied with this, because he brightened a little. "The moon will be fine, better than usual actually, Docy gave me Aconite." Then he opened his mouth and fished a masticated lump of something whitish-grey from the inside of his cheek with his tongue to show Sirius.

"Eww." Sirius grimaced at the unpleasant sight. "But good. You do seem better than you normally are on full moon eve," he said, realising it for the first time. The Remus he remembered from school was short tempered and exhausted in the days preceding his transformation.

"Definitely better," Remus agreed. "Freezing though."

"Right," Sirius said, briskly, "Come on then, Pete and James are playing cards."

"Are they now?" Remus said, his eyes gleaming, no doubt at the possible Potter gold coming his way.

"You'll even get your own room, there are two empty ones," Sirius continued as they went back inside, the man at the desk was actually asleep now, the useless bugger.

"That's a pity," Remus said as they started up the wonky staircase, and Sirius frowned back at him, "That we aren't forced to share a room," Remus elaborated.

"Oh." Sirius cottoned on, a thrill of something hot shot through him, but it fizzled out as he remembered their roommates. "Not with James and Pete right through the wall, that is not how I want James to find out about us."

* * *

Four rounds of Wizard Whilst later, James had chucked it in, dramatically declaring himself bankrupt at the hands of his former friends. Because Sirius hadn't had much gold on him James had been forced to back their bets - and lose it all to Remus's wiley card maths and unflappable pokerface.

Now, Pete was snoring soundly- Sirius could hear him even with the door shut, he was no doubt dreaming of plans for his share of the riches. James's room had been quiet for at least a half an hour. Sirius could not sleep however, his room had a large pile of slowly melting snow beneath the window he'd left open earlier, and he'd smoked all his remaining cigarettes in an effort to stay put. But eventually he found himself standing in front of Remus's door, unable to resist the promise of the warmth and comfort he'd been missing out on for the last five nights.

With this thought winning out over the complications of possible discovery, Sirius tapped lightly on the door before he pushed it open. "Moony?"

There was an answering chuckle in the dark. "What happened to ' _not with James and Pete through the wall'_?"

"Shut up," Sirius muttered, as he felt his way across the room and climbed into the bed. He shuffled in close to the super heated pocket of perfection that Remus occupied. His fingers immediately encountered bare skin and Remus squirmed, laughing quietly. "Why are your hands so cold?"

"I was smoking to try and distract myself from wanting to come in here," Sirius said, purposely placing his whole chilled palm against the warmest bits of skin he could find. "I had the window open."

"Right, well that clearly didn't work, not that I'm complaining." His own toasty fingers found their way under Sirius's t-shirt. "I'm glad you're here, I'm always so -" He broke off and Sirius was surprised by the urgent press of chapped lips against his own. He kissed back eagerly, so pleased by the very obvious desire Remus displayed.

"You're always so what?" he asked, when they finally broke for air, wanting to know what Remus had been going to say.

"Horny," Remus murmured, still so close, his teeth grazed Sirius's earlobe as he continued, "before the moon, I mean, I feel shitty and tired and my joints hurt, but ever since puberty I've spent pre-moon day bloody desperate for a wank."

This was news to Sirius, but it sort of made sense now that he thought about it. "Is _that_ why you were so fucking grouchy?"

"Yep. Not tonight though," he said smugly, as he pulled Sirius flush against him, illustrating quite clearly that he was more than pleased to have Sirius in his bed.

Sirius thought he should be used to this by now, the enthralling press of Remus's hard cock next to his own, the way it seemed to short circuit his brain every time. But he wasn't, and he was glad.

In the back of his mind he was sort of waiting for the boredom to set in, that itch to find something new. That was the way it had always happened in the past, and he was dreading it. But so far there was no sign, not even a hint. He didn't seem to be able to get enough from Remus, it made him realise how deeply in denial he'd been.

Remus rocked against him then, derailing his wandering mind. Sirius rolled them over and slipped a hand down the front of Remus's pajamas, he really did love this, his grip on Remus's cock was firm, that silky smooth skin such a fine contrast with the hard pulsing flesh beneath it. Remus groaned softly, his mouth was close to Sirius's ear and every short little panting breath was audible, every slight reaction to an increase in pace, or change of grip.

They'd done this so often, every night that Remus was in London, they'd either wank or suck each other off, and while it was brilliant Sirius kept thinking about the next step. It wasn't like him to put so much store in sex, it was just sex after all, but again with Remus it was different. Sirius was sure it would "mean something" to Remus, and if he was honest with himself he was equal parts excited and frightened. Frightened that he'd either mess it up terribly or find himself with an even more insatiable Remus-addiction to deal with.

The moon's effect on Remus was pretty obvious, he was always eager and slightly more kinky than Sirius had ever pegged him as, but tonight there was an edge, almost like greed in him. His lips barely parted from Sirius's skin, his jaw, his throat, his chest - _merlin_ \- his cock.

Sirius's eyes kept trying to roll back as Remus's mouth tightened around his length, his lips sliding temptingly just below the flared tip, while his tongue seemed to undulate as it swept over the most sensitive areas again and again. Sirius had enough presence of mind to muffle the noises of appreciation leaving him with his arm flung over his mouth, but Remus knew exactly what he liked by now and the intense and precise pleasure of it was blowing his mind.

It was then, as he hovered in a pre-orgasm haze that he felt it, Remus's slick finger sliding purposefully across his entrance- the surprise of it jolted him a little, because he really thought Remus would want to have a conversation about this first. But it was probably for the best that Remus was just going for it though, because as he circled the pad of his finger determinedly, Sirius wasn't actually capable of speech.

He came in a sudden rush shortly after that, just as the circling pressure breached him. He didn't even have time to warn Remus before his release shot from him, his body convulsed with the power of it and Remus coughed a little as he sat back on his knees, wiping his mouth with his left hand, because his right had two fingers inside Sirius.

Remus grinned predatorily at him as he curled these fingers up, sending something amazing sparking through Sirius's veins. "So... that's alright then?" he asked, his voice was slightly choked, and his darkened eyes kept flicking down to watch his hand moving in and out. It was almost too much for Sirius, an overwhelming pleasure edged with a slight burn every time Remus pushed a bit further. He would have agreed with anything Remus wanted right then.

"Y-yes" he managed, so wound up in sensation that operating his voice box seemed complicated and foreign. But then he suddenly felt Remus's breath on his face, and he opened eyes he didn't know he'd closed to see that the confidence Remus'd had a moment ago was fading, the lust-driven haze was gone from his gold-flecked brown eyes.

"I've never..." he started, his voice cracked a little, and his fingers paused in their rhythmic probing, allowing Sirius a moment of clarity.

"S'ok," Sirius assured him. "Me neither," he added, somewhat redundantly, since Remus was well aware he'd never taken it up the arse before. "I'm sure we'll figure it out."

"But it's so tight." Remus grimaced and slid his fingers in and out in illustration, causing Sirius to bite back a groan, he couldn't believe he'd missed out on this for so long. "I won't fit- it's going to hurt."

"Then make it looser?" Sirius was trying very hard to stay present, but he could feel himself growing hard again, and wrapped his own hand around his prick to speed the process. It was a good thing he had this as a distraction because when Remus's third finger joined the first two the burn was definitely more pronounced, but it didn't last long, and soon Remus was murmuring to him to get on his knees.

Sirius did, feeling slightly exposed, propped on his elbows with his arse in the air. All self-consciousness was forgotten though when the much more solid head of Remus's cock pressed against his hole, slipping in with much less resistance than Sirius was expecting.

And _fuck_ did it hurt.

A hot, stinging, unrelenting stretch. Remus sounded like he was praying behind him, an unbroken stream of blasphemy left his mouth as he pushed further in.

Sirius just tried to breathe as he was filled, sucking air in through gritted teeth until he felt the jut of Remus hipbones pressed against his arse cheeks.

"Okay?" Remus asked, in a breathless strangled voice.

"I liked your fingers better," Sirius admitted, still focused on breathing. "Just hold still for a minute," he muttered, willing his body to adjust as he grunted, "Merlin, why is having a big dick supposed to be a good thing?"

Remus made an amused little noise in the back if his throat, but remained motionless as he said, "I'm taking that as a compliment." Then he ran a soothing hand down his spine. "Is it really bad?" he asked more seriously as his calming hand trailed around, skimming Sirius's ribs and running over his stomach to take hold of his flagging cock. He stroked it firmly to bring it back to life. The deliberate way Remus thumbed the tip, and the perfectly controlled building rhythm was enough to distract Sirius from the pain. Even when Remus began to pump his hips minutely, rather increasing the burn, it added to the pleasure, and it wasn't long before Sirius was rocking back to meet him, the fullness and sliding friction sending him spiraling rapidly towards his second orgasm.

Remus's hand eventually left his cock and instead gripped tightly onto Sirius's hip, steadying them both as he moved faster, stifling a groan every time he bottomed out. His breathing became panting, and then suddenly, with a final powerful thrust and a stuttered warning Remus came, his thighs trembled where they rested against Sirius's and his fingers bit sharply into the skin at Sirius's sides.

"Holy hell," Remus sighed, flopping back on the bed in ecstasy, after their bodies disconnected with an unpleasant squelch.

Sirius, who'd been verging on his own climax rolled onto his back with his blood still zinging through him. His still engorged cock stood upright, as if demanding Remus's attention, and he palmed it lazily.

After a brief pause of silence, during which Pete's snores permeated the room from next door, Remus recovered enough to notice Sirius wasn't quite done yet.

"Sorry," Remus said hoarsely, getting on hands and knees to clamber up the bed. He was sweaty and pink-cheeked as he batted Sirius's own lethargically pumping hand out of the way to finish the job. Sirius's second release of the evening was not as strong as the first, but he still felt it pulsing all the way to his toes.

And as he lay there, with Remus nuzzled in next to him, wonderfully wrecked and at peace with the world, the disturbing realisation hit that from then on, Pete's rumbling snores would always remind him of the first time he and Remus had sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long!  
> If anyone is still reading this please let me know!  
> George xx


	16. Part 5: II

* * *

It was just after lunch the next day when the four friends left the Rusty Nail. The man behind the front desk didn't even seem to notice that they had an extra person with them as they passed him out the front door into the chilly high street. There was an icy mist falling, melting the snow and turning the cobbled pavement into greyish sludge.

James and Pete were none the wiser about the activities that had taken place in Remus's bedroom the night before. Sirius had snuck back to his own bed in the wee hours, reluctant to leave though he had been. But there was an awkward moment at breakfast when James had asked why Sirius took his seat so cautiously as they all sat down to eat, and he'd just mumbled that he'd not got much sleep, not being able to think of anything but the truth. Remus had snorted into his tea cup at the weak excuse and was unable to meet Sirius's disgruntled expression for a full ten minutes, his face working furiously the whole time as he tried not to show his amusement.

Out on the street the low-slung February sun was just a slightly lighter patch of grey in the Scottish sky as the four of them ducked into an alley just down from Honeydukes. They needed a place out of sight to get ready for the first part of their full moon adventure.

Remus had clearly embraced the idea of company for the evening, because he kept having to smother little ecstatic smiles as James dug in his rucksack for his cloak. Though, the way he caught Sirius's eye once or twice made Sirius wonder if he was just preoccupied by vivid shag flashbacks, because Sirius most certainly was.

"Alright," James said briskly, peering around Sirius to check the coast was clear, and unfurling his invisibility cloak with a flourish. "Merlin, it's been ages since we all tried to squeeze under here." he said, as the fluid fabric rippled in the cool breeze blowing through the alley. He looked Sirius up and down as if assessing his height and then his eyes flicked to Peter, taking in his portly belly.

"You could just use the town hall tunnel, instead of risking being seen in Honeydukes," Remus suggested, but the three others shot this idea down with disbelieving looks.

"The two thousand stair tunnel?" Pete said incredulously, "No way! that's the worst of the lot."

"We'll be too exhausted to muck about with you tonight if we go that way Moony," James agreed.

The town hall tunnel had been a nasty discovery for the Marauders, they'd found the passage behind a large mirror on the fourth floor of the castle in their third year. So of course they'd set off to explore it excitedly. Unfortunately, whoever had designed it was either insane or drunk. It led a weaving and uneven path out of the castle and below Hogsmeade all the way to the town hall at the far end of the high street. Not only was the distance it covered longer than any of the others, but the tunnel itself rose and fell with uncountable flights of steps carved into the earthen floor. The only good thing about it was that the town hall was usually empty, so unlike the other four usable tunnels out of Hogwarts they didn't have to contend with shoppers or home owners when exiting.

With their decision made James, Sirius, and Peter huddled together, and Remus flung the cloak over them, then crouched down to check their feet. Sirius felt the very unpleasant sensation of a disillusionment charm washing over his boots, it was as though he'd just stepped in a very deep glutinous puddle.

Remus stood again, satisfied. "Let's go then," he said, leading them out of the alley back into the high street. The other three followed in crocodile fashion, taking care to make sure the cloak didn't flutter about their knees too much.

The bell over Honeydukes' door jingled cheerfully as Remus pushed it open. The warm sugary air hit them in a wave that made Sirius's mouth water. Remus stepped over the threshold and then paused, taking his time to retrieve a money pouch from his pocket, so that the others could enter after him undetected.

"See ya at the shack Moony," Sirius whispered as they passed him in an invisible conga line, heading towards an empty corner of the shop to await their chance.

"Remus dear!" trilled Mrs Flume the moment she spotted him. Remus had still been standing in the entrance looking around his favorite schoolboy haunt nostalgically.

The broad and jolly proprietor of Honeydukes was beaming as Remus approached the counter, the bulging coin pouch in his hand on clear display. Mrs Flume's eyes flicked to it, and her smile widened even further. It was no secret that Remus was a severe sugar addict, Sirius thought that his five years of regular Hogsmeade visits had probably set the Flumes up for retirement nicely. Mrs Flume was clearly remembering this too as she summoned the twiggy young assistant from a far corner to see to the till while she came around the counter to greet Remus properly.

"It's so good to see you my boy," she gushed, patting him on the arm, "I've something special you'll like, new stock just in."

Remus just smiled allowing himself to be led towards a colourful display.

Sirius could tell that while this might all be a ruse so that the three of them could slip down the stairs and into the basement, Remus was actually quite pleased to have to spend last night's Whilst winnings on the latest in sweet fashion.

The three of them had to walk very slowly to avoid bumping into any of the shelves or other patrons. By the time they had got around the counter, thanking Merlin all the while that the assistant was such a wisp and did not block their way to the door, Remus was already clutching several bright boxes and looking very happy about it.

The basement of Honeydukes was just as Sirius remembered it, dark and musty but with the overwhelming sweet smell that lingered from all the crates that were stacked against the far wall.

It took James a minute to find the trapdoor in the floor of the cellar, it had been disguised by a respectable layer of dust. There was a crate stamped with the Honeydukes logo and a picture of a chocolate frog plonked partially over it too. Both James and Pete threw their shoulders against it to slide the crate aside while Sirius watched the door to the shop.

Once they were down in the tunnel Sirius was besieged by fond memories of all the times they'd travelled this route in their school days. The twenty minute walk passed quickly, as James regaled them with his own favourite trips.

"Remember when we got all that Firewhisky for your birthday Pete," he said with a chortle, "and then bloody Filch nabbed me on our way upstairs?"

"Thats right!" Sirius laughed, remembering himself and Peter pelting up the corridor with a crate of clinking bottles between them while James hung back to distract the caretaker who was hot on their tail.

"You three were so sodding sloshed by the time I got away from him!"

"Wasn't that the night Moony puked on your bed, Padfoot?" Peter said, giggling at the memory.

Sirius just laughed as they walked along, stooped a little as not to bang his head on the low ceiling. Peter's sixteenth birthday had been a Marauder-only affair, the four of them (once James had escaped Filch's thumb-screws) had sat on the floor in their dormitory playing drinking games and working their way through a crate of Ogden's premixes. Sirius had been the only one not to throw up, something he regretted heartily the next morning when he experienced his first ever hangover, because the others had been in much better health after emptying their stomachs.

In the tunnel, Sirius climbed the stone slope to the exit in the witch's hump first, tapping it from the inside and saying " _Dissendium_ " very quietly. He listened carefully before he edged his head out just enough to check if the coast was clear - afternoon lessons would be in full swing so their chances of being caught were slim.

"All clear," he called softly down to the others. Then he hoisted himself out of the hole, having to curl his shoulders in on themselves to fit out the gap.

James followed, handing Sirius the cloak first to hide him while he waited, then joined him under it when he climbed out of the old crone's back.

It was then that they hit their first snag of the afternoon - Peter pulled his head and shoulders free of the hole and then suddenly his expression changed, it became pinched and wide-eyed at the same time.

"Hurry up," Sirius warned, "we need to get moving."

"I can't," Peter moaned, "I'm stuck." He twisted his thick body around but made no progress further out of the hole.

"Seriously?" James said, reaching a hand out to try and tug Peter free.

"Ow! Bloody hell, stop!" Peter cried, wrenching his hand from James's.

"Shh," Sirius hissed, then he heard it, the dreaded sound of footsteps coming toward them. It was times like this he wished they still had their trusty map.

"Fuck!" James cursed, and shoved at Peter's head, trying to stuff him back down. There was no way they could fit the whole statue, Pete's head and upper body, as well as both James and Sirius under the cloak. The footsteps were growing louder, clicking ominously on the stone floor. Peter slapped James's pushing hands away, wriggled a bit and disappeared back down the chute, out of sight.

Sirius and James stayed where they were, crouched in the alcove under the cloak out of sight, breathing shallowly as the brisk approaching footsteps reached them. It turned out to be Professor McGonagall, striding along purposefully. She didn't even glance their way and she passed, heading toward the staircase at the end of the corridor. Sirius realised that it was possible that she was actually off to meet Remus, down at the front gate.

Once she was gone James called softly down the hole to Peter, "You're going to have to double back Pete, if you can't get out here." Peter had climbed up the chute to talk to them, and he looked resigned as the next words left James's mouth. "You'll have to use the town hall after all."

Sirius heard him swearing as he slid back down to the floor of the tunnel. "We'll meet you behind the mirror," Sirius called after him.

"You don't think we could make the hole bigger?" James asked, looking unhappily after their friend.

 _Poor Pete_ , Sirius thought, before he replied to James's question. "Probably not, Hogwarts doesn't like to be messed with."

"True… he'll be okay… right?"

"Right, Wormtail will be fine he's sneaky - oh shit, _Wormtail!"_ Sirius cried, as the most obvious solution smacked him in the face.

"Merlin we're idiots," James groaned, understanding at the same time Sirius did. "Pete!" he called down the tunnel, "Pete!" but there was no answer. Peter had obviously got out of range already, and they couldn't risk actually shouting, someone was bound to hear.

"Could send a patronus?" James suggested, half-heartedly.

Sirius nodded, but said, "Or we could get moving before somebody finds us here, the period will be over soon, there'll be kids everywhere. Pete could do with a bit more cardio in his life anyway."

* * *

The fourth floor tunnel had always been their go-to spot for hiding, or waiting out extended periods of time where they needed to be undetected. It was wide and the ceiling was high enough to prevent claustrophobia. Sirius sank down on the floor next to James who was alreading scoffing down one of the eclairs the elves had given them. They had detoured via the kitchen on their way to meet Peter behind the mirror- it had really felt like old times, him and James sneaking about under the cloak- the house-elves in the kitchen had been extremely pleased to see them.

"Don't eat them all," Sirius cautioned, "Pete's gonna need cheering up when he gets here."

"Yeah, that's sort of the problem though… Pete's fondness of eclairs."

Sirius snickered. "Tubby little bugger, he still manages to keep up though."

James laughed too. "Can't blame him, I've missed this food so much," James said, happily helping himself to a jammy dodger, "I'm so glad we decided to come."

"For the food?" Sirius teased.

"No, it's just good right?" James said with relish, "A _break_ , I'm really not cut out for being a grown up."

" _You're_ not?" Sirius repeated. To him James was the most settled of all of them. "Mr happy little life with your flat and your girl? You're being a grown up just fine."

"Nah," James said a little sadly, "I fantasise about this, about Hogwarts. I wish we could just go back, everything was so easy here."

Sirius knew what he was getting at; school life was certainly simpler than what they faced now, but Sirius couldn't resist reminding him that life wasn't all bad now. "Back to when Lily hated you you mean? Or when we all had to sleep in the same room? And share a loo?"

"Point," James agreed, toasting Sirius with his last bite of biscuit. "So what about you then, are you going to go back to dating girls any time soon?"

"And dump Caradoc?" Sirius said sarcastically. "I thought you were convinced we were together."

James shook his head, as if the idea was ridiculous. "I was just winding you up."

"You were being a prick." Sirius pointed out bluntly.

"I thought you liked that now…" James teased, his right brow lifting behind his glasses.

Sirius probably should have been annoyed, but for some reason, he was less concerned about James's opinion than he had been. "Haha," he said, "I don't like it Prongs, I love it. You don't know what you're missing out on."

James winced and flapped a hand in Sirius's direction. "Fuck off," he laughed uncomfortably. "Well, I only ask because Lily has this friend, met her at some muggleborn orphans thing she was helping with-"

"Nope," Sirius interrupted flatly.

"You don't even know what I'm going to say!" James argued at once.

"Don't I?" Sirius drawled. He'd heard it enough times over the last year, some friend of Lily's that was just what he needed. "She's Lily's friend," he started, counting off the usual points on his fingers, "and Lily wants couple friends, and this chick is _so_ nice, and would be perfect for me…"

"Well, close. " James harrumphed, quite deflated, "Delphene is not that _nice_ though, sort of snarky. But cool, and smoking hot."

"How do you know?" Sirius asked shrewdly, suddenly realising that James wasn't supposed to be having contact with anyone outside the Order. "You're not allowed to leave the house."

James bit his lip in contrition. "I snuck some extra polyjuice from Dorcas's stores, I go out as Lily's imaginary brother sometimes."

"What!?" Sirius exclaimed, too loudly for the tunnel, and James jumped a little in shock. "Mate," Sirius continued more quietly, "that's so bloody stupid. What if you got caught?"

James shrugged. "I've gotta live Pads, what if I get killed next week?" - His hazel eyes became beseeching - "A few charity events aren't going to get me caught, and I actually help at them too, so you know, I'm doing good shit."

"Okay… " Sirius said slowly, this reminder of their mortality made the bitter feelings he had toward James recede, "as long as-"

"You're not my mum," James cut in. "Just leave it."

Not wanting another reason to argue, Sirius held his tongue, busying himself with a second eclair. James too seemed to be at a loss for anything to say, he sat in silence folding his invisibility cloak into the smallest possible parcel before stowing it in his bag again.

Eventually Sirius couldn't take it anymore. "So what does Lily think of you recommending her 'smoking hot' friend to me?"

James gave him a shifty look, and said reluctantly, "She wants couple friends."

"Called it." Sirius laughed, relieved that the awkwardness was broken. "Tell Lily I'm sorry but I'm not looking right now." He paused, and framed his next question as casually as possible. "Have you told her about the blokes thing?"

James tipped his head to the side. "Kind of, she asked who you were shagging and I said you were experimenting, then she heard the rumour about you and Dearborn and asked me if it was true. I told her you denied it."

"I've never shagged him," Sirius said firmly, "or anything with him. Smoked a few of his fags, but then you smoke mine and I don't keep insisting you're bent so…"

"Yeah, yeah," James said, brushing Sirius's needling aside. "Sorry. Lily didn't seem to think it was a big deal though, just a phase she figured."

 _Just a phase?_ James seriously had no idea how offensive he could be _._ But Sirius was over fighting about this, and he caved. "Fuck it, tell me about Delphene."

James grinned, and began keenly, "Well, she's French for starters, sexiest voice you ever heard, her English is pretty good, and she's tall, honestly if I didn't already have the most perfect woman on earth I'd be looking twice at Delphie."

"Sounds like you already have."

"For you mate." James patted him on the knee, as if objectifying women was okay as long as you were doing out of the good of your pervy heart.

"Whatever you need to tell yourself," Sirius said, resisting rolling his eyes, "Maybe you should set her up with Pete, he's not had a date in a while."

"Yes he has," James said sharply, apparently taken aback that Sirius didn't already know this, "Milly Mason, from the Express, the girl with the food trolley? He's been seeing her on and off for ages."

"Huh, really?" Sirius said, "He never told me."

"You never ask," James chastised. "Delphie probably wouldn't be too keen on Pete anyway, she's ... er, picky."

"Oh right," Sirius said, as it clicked into place, "So you just asked me because I'm pretty?"

"Maybe," James replied honestly, "but that's a compliment!"

"Whatever." Sirius sulked without really knowing why, it wasn't like he hadn't been called pretty before, Caradoc implied it quite regularly.

"I should probably talk to Moony," James went on thoughtfully, "he's looking good these days, I feel fucking scrawny standing next to him now. Have you noticed?"

"I guess." Sirius hedged, still wanting to be grumpy but having to twist his lips and look away to hide his irrepressible grin. The way Remus looked occupied a pretty large part of Sirius's mind on a day to day basis.

"When did that even happen?" James said pensively, "he was such a runty kid."

"Maybe it's a wolf thing?" Sirius offered, a weird sort of pride filling him because his boyfriend was so obviously attractive.

"Maybe." James nodded in agreement. "Well, Delphie would surely appreciate it. And Moony would probably like her, she's clever, sort of sarcastic. He has that sort of sense of humor."

"Hmmm," Sirius hummed noncommittally, thinking, _No he didn't_. Remus had an ironic sense of humor. He liked people who were intelligent, and quick, not sarcastic snobs.

"Pete's going to be furious by the time he gets here," James said, when Sirius didn't add anymore on the topic of setting Remus up on a blind date.

"You mean exhausted," Sirius corrected, forcing a smile and trying to relax. It really shouldn't be this hard to sit next to his best friend. It struck him then that even though he'd waited 'til they finished school, this thing with Remus had still messed up his friendship with James. It was almost enough to make him agree to the date with the French girl, it would certainly ease James's stupid snarky attitude. Maybe if he talked to Remus about it, so he'd know it was just to make James happy….

* * *

Eventually, a wheezing voice from the shadows made them both jump. "I bloody well hate you two you know!" Peter puffed, "The town hall? The fucking town hall tunnel? You –"

"We have eclairs!" James interrupted, warding off Pete's tantrum. Peter rarely complained, but when he did it was long-winded and painful.

"And pumpkin juice!" Sirius added, waving the flask at him. "Come sit down, I made Prongs leave the biggest eclair for you."

"Oh," Peter said, pausing mid pout, looking stumped. "Thanks Padfoot."

"Why does he get a thank you?" James grouched lightly, "I'm the one who made the sacrifice."

Peter raised pale eyebrows at him. "Well I'm the one who braved the two thousand stair passage, so hand it over."

"Well earned Petey," James commended him, as he passed the plate in Peter's direction.

"Do you know what the bloody worst thing was?" Peter said thickly, his mouth full already, "I realised half way up those damn steps that I could have just gone rat and fit through easily!"

Sirius and James glanced at each other guiltily, and then said, slightly too enthusiastically, "Oh of course! Damn it. Why didn't we think of that!"

"Yeah," Peter said, but seemed happy enough to have the biggest éclair.

They sat quietly together for a while after that, waiting until sunset. Thankfully in the highlands in February this was not long after mid-afternoon, so their whole stint in the tunnel only came to about three hours.

* * *

They were prepared for a risky trip to the willow that afternoon- the early sunset meant they weren't able to wait until dinnertime when the students were distracted. But instead they had to make the trip across the snowy lawn during the last class of the day, when window gazing was at its peak. They were going to have to mask their footprints in the snow even with their disillusioned feet, and it was difficult to stay covered and perform the obliteration spell while walking backwards across the slippery sloping grass.

Peter had a solution though. Rather than the three of them crammed under the cloak making everything more difficult, James and Sirius could just be hidden while he ran down to the willow as Wormtail. Sirius was quite embarrassed that he had not thought of this himself, but then he'd been pre-occupied all day with a head full of shag flashbacks and James irritating him so persistently.

Their trip down through the castle went well, everyone being in class was a bonus for this part of the journey. They had a minor encounter with a pair of third years rushing upstairs, and had to flatten themselves against the wall to avoid detection. The pair were quite distracted in any case - one girl was supporting the first whose feet were four times too big for her body and making her very clumsy. Sirius didn't know which lesson was to blame. Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions could all cause over-sized body parts with the right combination of errors.

They made it out onto the grounds without further incident. It was still damp and cold, the murky sky had darkened significantly and the lingering snow was slushy and sodden on the grass as they set off toward the willow. The frigid drizzle continued to fall, and their breath puffed out in clouds before them. Sirius's fingers were numb where he clutched his wand as he performed the spell to mask their path from any watchful eyes above, and by the time Pete pressed the knot on the Whomping Willow so they could shimmy down the tunnel he could actually hear James's teeth chattering next to him.

The shack afforded shelter from the wind, but it was just as damp and cold inside as it was out. The first thing they did was drag out the old frayed blankets kept in the upstairs bedroom to wrap themselves in.

The place looked just as they had left it in the summer. Downstairs, where they settled themselves to wait for Remus, four tatty armchairs sat in a circle, there was a crumpled crisp bag and two empty butterbeer bottles on the dusty floor between them. They should probably have made an effort to clean up, but for some reason it hadn't occurred to Sirius that they wouldn't be back for a long time when they'd left after the final full moon of the term.

Remus arrived not long after them, and Madam Pomfrey left him at the trapdoor just like she had always done in later years, when out of the blue he had mysteriously started coping with his condition so well. The bolt on the trapdoor grinding into place alerted them to Remus's arrival.

He came around the doorframe with hunched shoulders and a palid face and collapsed into the free chair. "Fancy seeing you lot here," he said, hooking one of the blankets on the floor with his foot and pulling it up over himself.

"You alright?" Sirius asked, shocked by his deterioration, he'd been pretty chipper when they'd left him in the village, but now he looked quite as bad as he usually had when they'd been at school. "I thought you had that Aconite?"

Remus's eyes widened as Sirius spoke. "Nah," he said, much more alert all of a sudden and confusing Sirius by shaking his head warningly.

"What's Aconite for?" both James and Peter asked at once, and Sirius realised his blunder. The Aconite was a secret. But did Remus not trust James and Peter? That was a surprise.

"Told you those new age muggle remedies were all bollocks," Sirius said hurriedly, to cover his mistake, "don't think joint pain is quite the same for muggles as it it for werewolves."

Remus gave him a wan smile, clearly impressed by his quick lie. "Right as always Pads, no need to rub it in."

"You've been taking muggle drugs?" Peter asked, "Isn't that a bit dangerous?"

"No, no," Remus assured him, "it's harmless, there was a rumour that this stuff worked for wolves."

"What _stuff_?" James asked, shrewdly, "Aconite? and what do you mean by _worked_?"

 _Shit,_ thought Sirius, damn their inconveniently sharp friends. Remus clearly didn't want to tell them about the effect Aconite had, but it wasn't like he couldn't trust them. It was just Pete and James, neither of them saw anyone except Order members these days, who would they even tell?

Remus seemed to come to the same conclusion. "It's not muggle." He sighed. "Sorry, I'm meant to keep it a secret, less people that know the better."

"But you told Sirius?" James asked suspiciously.

"Yeah," Remus started, with a glance at Sirius before looking back at James. "It's pretty cool, I've been chewing Aconite root in the run up to every full moon for a while now and it keeps me a bit calmer, less likely to tear myself to shreds, you know?"

"Wow! That's so good Moony!" Peter exclaimed, genuinely excited for him. "Did you find it while you were in France?"

"Er … something like that," Remus murmured. Sirius had forgotten that Peter and possibly even James had not been told where the wolf pack Remus was living with roamed, and Peter had clearly heard the cover story Remus had given his parents and got the facts muddled.

Peter rolled his little eyes. "Secrets, secrets. I can't wait 'til this war is over and we can all just be honest again."

"Who aren't you being honest with Pete?" James asked, looking amused rather than concerned.

"No one," Peter said quickly. "Well, Mum I guess. No, I just mean we'll be able to talk normally again when all this is over."

James nodded. "I get it, I feel like I'm gonna be accused of being a spy everytime I ask someone what they've been up to lately, it's driving me round the twist."

"Right well, we've got about five minutes 'til moon rise," Remus interrupted, as he unbuckled his watch and handed it to Sirius for safe keeping, "So you three should probably go upstairs and wait."

They all got to their feet at once, no one ever dallied when Remus said it was time to go. James and Pete headed straight to the door to the stairs and Sirius followed, but paused to look at Remus. He was curled in his chair looking pained and worn. No matter how much they did for him this part had always got to Sirius, leaving the ill boy, or man as he now was, to face the horrific pain of transformation alone.

Before he'd really thought about it Sirius's feet were carrying him back across the creaking floorboards of their own accord. He took Remus's face in his hands and planted a bracing kiss on his now feverish lips. "Chin up Rem," he said softly, "we'll have a great time tonight."

Then James's voice called, "Padfoot? what's the hold up-" The last word came to a clipped end and Sirius straightened up to see him standing in the doorway again. He snatched his hands back from Remus guiltily.

James's expression was hard to decipher as he stared at them from across the room, especially since Sirius's brain had jammed, his stomach curled into a tight knot and his palms had begun sweating with fear. Had James seen? Was he frowning because he was confused, or horrified, or just annoyed that Sirius was mucking around?

Afraid to find out Sirius forced his focus inward and allowed his magic to transform him into Padfoot.

* * *

The effect of Aconite on Remus's wolf was very obvious to Sirius. He'd been almost playful through most of the night, even though they didn't leave the shack like they used to. The werewolf seemed content to just chase Wormtail through the house at top speed, pausing occasionally to tackle Padfoot to the ground.

Poor Pete had certainly earned his keep by the end of the night. As the sun rose he lay in a tiny exhausted heap, his grey furry belly rising and falling rapidly as he tried to recover his breath.

Then, after the usual, but still horrifying, howls which morphed into human whimpering, Remus the man was back, swaddled in a blanket and looking less healthy than a person suffering from the Black Death.

James was yet to transform back into himself, and his large sombre eyes seemed to catch Sirius's more often than they should. Prongs had spent the night guarding the door to the passage, and while this was the usual way they did things, or had done things until they started leaving the shack anyway, tonight it had seemed like James was purposefully isolating himself.

"We should go," Sirius said, once he was back to himself. He patted the dozing Remus's shoulder lightly and stood up. "It wouldn't do to have Pomfrey discover our secret now, after so many successful years."

Pete who was now human, but still red faced and wobbly legged nodded, hauling himself upright to head towards the tunnel trap door. Prongs stepped aside as Sirius and Peter approached, his delicate slender legs at odds with the jerky movement. Staying stag was one way to avoid the awkward conversation that Sirius could feel looming. He was grateful that James was choosing the non-confrontational route for now.


	17. Part 5: III

 

Sirius was waiting for James to demand an explanation the moment he regained human form, and of course he was dreading it, but there was a large part of him that just wanted to get it over with.

Sirius expected James to be angry that they’d kept it a secret, to shout that he felt betrayed, to demand to know how long they’d been carrying on behind his back, and if they’d ever planned to tell him. To be horrified that not only was Sirius gay, but now Remus was too. But eventually, after the initial explosion, when he’d had a bit of time to process it, he’d accept their relationship because it made them happy, and really didn’t actually affect him at all.

James however, did not shout. What happened instead was so much worse. He did not once look in Sirius’s direction as they stole back along the tunnel and across the grounds. It was in cool, stony silence that they went through the front doors of the castle and up to the fourth floor.

 Sirius was uncomfortable; he’d prepared himself for a confrontation, and the fact that there was nothing left him feeling uncertain and surprisingly guilty.

His neck began to ache due to the number of times he had whipped his head in James’s direction to see if he was looking his way, but he never was. James just stared straight ahead, his smudged glasses hiding any flicker of emotion in his eyes.

In an effort to force him to speak Sirius lamented the fact that they all had to use the town hall tunnel to get back to Hogsmeade - Honeydukes did not open until nine a.m., so they would set off all manner of intruder charms if they tried to exit the shop outside business hours - But James only shrugged and grunted in response, while Peter who was plodding wearily half a step behind, gave a grateful sigh that he wouldn’t have to brave the long route alone this time. He seemed totally unaware of the silent battle going on between the two best friends, but then he did stumble a couple of times as they walked the tunnel, and Sirius thought it was because he’d actually fallen asleep while upright, so he probably wasn’t at his most observant.

The extra distance in awkward silence made Sirius wish that the security at Hogwarts wasn’t so strong. When they’d been at school there were several gaps in the forest boundary that allowed them to slip out into the village, but now they were all sealed up with Dumbledore's unbreakable magic.

The sun had fully risen by the time they reached the Rusty Nail, and the night’s adventures had caught up with Sirius enough that he barely gave James’s slamming door a second thought as his own face hit the pillow and consciousness left him.

It wasn’t until he woke in the mid afternoon that the full force of James’s silence, and moody demeanour really registered. For all Sirius’s internal assurances that James’s poor reaction would be short lived, now that he was facing it Sirius was having second thoughts. Would this be their undoing? But his and James’s friendship was unbreakable, surely a little thing like a clandestine relationship between two of his best friends wouldn’t be enough to destroy seven years of dependence and comradery… right?

* * *

 

At four in the afternoon the landlady knocked on the door and told them if they weren’t out in half an hour they’d have to pay for another night. Twenty-seven minutes later, they were standing in the High Street once more. Peter looked refreshed after a decent sleep, but James’s dour expression was unchanged. He was huffy and impatient as they had gathered their things and left the Inn, and now he stood next to Peter with his hands shoved in his pockets and his eyes determinedly set on something in the distance - something other than any space Sirius occupied apparently.

Sirius had gone from concern at James’s reaction to annoyance now, he’d flat out ignored Sirius when he’d reminded him to put his invisibility cloak on. So now he was standing in an all-wizarding village completely unhidden, where any Death Eaters or informants could see. It was reckless and selfish, Sirius kept his hand on his wand just in case.

“Shall we go up to the castle and see Moony?” Peter suggested. “Dumbledore wouldn’t mind would he?”

“He’d probably mind that I’m out without permission,” James said sullenly.

“Then wear your damn cloak,” Sirius snapped, surprising himself with the heat in his voice.  “Dumbledore probably isn’t even there anyway, he’s off doing Order stuff most of the time.”

“True,” James said shortly, rounding on Sirius, and meeting his eyes for the first time all day.  “And we should see Remus, shouldn’t we? That’s what _friends_ do right?” He took a step closer and sneered, “Visit, keep him company, give him a hug, or a kiss-”

“Prongs,” Sirius said, holding up his hands in surrender, but not retreating as he warred with the ridiculous urge to smile now James was finally reacting as expected.  “I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Didn’t tell him what?” Peter interrupted, looking confusedly between the two of them, taking in James’s aggressive stance and Sirius’s clear apology.

“That him and Moony kiss each other these days,” James said haughtily, still glaring at Sirius.

“Kissing? Wow,” Peter said, his face only marginally surprised, “I mean, I thought something was going on, you always sit so close together, and Moony has always stared at you a lot, but I didn’t know it had gone that far.” He gave Sirius an appraising look. “Just don’t break up and get all weird about each other okay? That would suck.” Then he glanced between the two of them once more and patted his belly. “Can we get something to eat before we go? I’m starving.”

Sirius could do little but blink as Pete turned and led the way up the High Street. He chanced a look at James, whose mouth was now hanging open while his forehead crumpled in complete incomprehension.

“Er...” James said after a moment, then he swallowed audibly and cursed under his breath, “ _Fucking hell_.”  Then, without another look in Sirius’s direction he strode off after Pete.

* * *

 

“No mischief,” Professor McGonagall warned, towering over them. “None,” she emphasised, her beady glare falling on Sirius and making him feel like he was fourteen all over again. “You will sit in those seats until I return to escort you out of the castle.”

“Yes Professor,” the three men chorused from where they all sat, side-by-side in the hard-backed visitor chairs found in the hospital wing.

“And Mr Potter, if you show your face anywhere outside of this room I will be reporting to Dumbledore that you’re not following his orders.”

“Yes Professor,” James repeated.

“Very good. You have half an hour. I will return then.” The door snapped shut behind the Deputy Headmistress, and the silence in the room that followed was suddenly thick.

“It’s like she thinks we’re going to burn the place down,” James muttered, sounding more like his normal self than he’d been all day. Clearly, just as he’d mentioned the day before, being back at Hogwarts was enough to improve his mood.

“It’s not like her concern is unfounded though, is it?” Remus said from the bed, where he was propped up and looking surprisingly healthy, “Remember Padfoot’s fireworks obsession in fourth year?”

Sirius grinned at the memory. “My eyebrows have never been the same since.” He ran his index finger across the left one, like he was checking it was still in one piece.

“So when are you getting out?” Peter asked their bedridden friend. “You look good as new.”

“I know,” Remus said happily, stretching his arms out as if admiring them; there were no bandages or anything, just faded scars from harder moons long past criss-crossing the toned flesh. “Poppy was asking so many questions, it was very hard to explain my lack of injury.” 

“Poppy?” Pete repeated.

“Madam Pomfrey,” Remus said, “she insisted I call her by her first name now that I’m not a student.”

“Wish McGonagall would do the same,” James put in, “she still talks to us like we’re first years.”

“I think she was nicer in first year,” Sirius said, deciding if James was going to act normally then he could too, “that was before she gave us up as lost cause.” James nodded in agreement, and buoyed by this pleasant interaction Sirius added, “And you call her Minnie half the time anyway.”

“Ha,” James laughed, surprising Sirius with his lack of hostility. “True. Not quite the same though is it.” James seemed to remember all of a sudden that he was angry with Sirius, because as he finished speaking his lips drew in tight and he glowered down at his knees.

“Can you imagine calling Dumbledore, _Albus_?” Peter said with an amused giggle, either oblivious to James’s mood or purposely ignoring it. “It’s so not right.”

“He probably wouldn’t mind at all,” Remus said, “maybe we should.” He’d definitely noticed James’s odd behaviour, his concerned expression was quite clear, but Sirius could tell he was trying to figure out the cause before he asked.

“So when _are_ you free to go?” Sirius asked.

“Oh right,” Remus said remembering the original question. “After dinner. She wants me to take one more round of potions, and I have to eat first.”

“Are you going to your parents place?” James asked, trying his best to sound casual, but his tone was a little too light to match the stormy look he sent Sirius as he spoke.

“Er no,” Remus said with a fleeting glance at Sirius too, that let him know Remus had an inkling of James’s problem now. “I’m going to be staying in London I think.”

Sirius beamed, James and his uncomfortableness could bugger off. This was what he wanted, Remus coming home to him after the moon, after anything really.

James just gave a silent nod, and Peter frowned disapprovingly at him for a second, and then said to Remus, “You’ll never guess what these two made me do Moony.”

“Do I want to know?” Remus asked. “Is McGonagall going to regret letting you in after all?”

“No, nothing like that. Just that I had to use the town hall passage to get in last night.”

Sirius listened silently to Peter’s retelling of the town hall debacle, happy to let Remus admonish him and James for leaving Pete to back-track alone, and to sympathise with him over the dreaded thousand stair passage. James was quiet too, Sirius was sure an outburst was brewing, but even at his most self-centred James would never raise his voice at Remus while he was recovering from the moon. Sirius’s mind had drifted as Remus and Peter talked, and so he was taken by surprise when Remus reached out from the bed and flicked him painfully across the ear.

“Ow! Fuck, Rem!” Sirius clapped a hand to his stinging ear, and rubbed at it to diffuse the pain.

“Gees Pads, you could have warned me,” his boyfriend said reproachfully.

“Warned you what?” Sirius complained indignantly.

Remus was unrepentant, and it was Pete that answered, “That me and James know that you guys are a thing.”

“Oh, right.” Sirius grimaced guiltily. “Well, Prongs and Wormy know,” he said, and Remus rolled his eyes, but Sirius could see the nervousness in him. “Pete says we’re not allowed to break up and get all weird about each other.”

“I’ll do my best,” Remus said sincerely to Peter, then he looked at James expectantly, for his conditional blessing no doubt.

But James just shrugged. “If it’s what you’re into right now that’s fine, but I don’t want to see it, okay?”

Twelve hours as Padfoot had left Sirius feeling rather canine, and James’s refusal to get the point, his inability to see that their relationship was just as valid as anyone else’s made Sirius want to snarl at him. He refrained, but only just. “Like how we have to watch you and Lily feeling each other up all the time?” he challenged instead, the words coming out sharp and argumentative.

“Padfoot,” Remus warned, putting a hand out to keep Sirius in his seat, and looking shocked by his vehement reaction.

But James rose instead, his chair legs scraped the floor noisily in the empty room. “Time to go I think,” he said abruptly, “Lily’s expecting me. Coming Wormtail?”

“Sure,” Peter said reluctantly, standing too. “See you two at headquarters tomorrow night.” He smiled at the pair of them, and followed the now cloak-covered and invisible James out the door.

Sirius blew out a heavy breath, regretting his temper. “McGonagall is going to be mad when she comes back and they’re not here.”

Remus nodded. “Yup, but at least she can’t give us detention.” He caught Sirius’s hand and held it tight. “You okay? Why did you tell James?”

“I didn’t _tell_ him,” —Sirius gave another discontented sigh— “last night, when I kissed you, he saw. He’s been a dick as predicted.” He looked at Remus bleakly for a minute, but then Peter’s unbothered face popped into his mind and a little half-smile lifted his lips. “What about Pete though? I didn't see that coming.”

Remus laughed, shaking his head. “I never would have thought Pete adopted the live and let live philosophy.”

“He was completely unsurprised too,” Sirius continued, the weight that had been pressing on his chest since that morning lifted considerably as he relayed Peter’s words in the High Street. “He goes, ‘ _Moony stares at you a lot, and you always sit so close together, just don’t break up and get all weird because that would suck.’_ I think Prongs just about fell over.”

“I don’t stare at you that much do I?” Remus asked, somewhat sheepishly.

“Dunno.” Sirius shrugged. “But I think you once called me the most obtuse person on the planet, so probably not the best judge of such things.”

Remus gave him a crooked little smirk and nodded in acknowledgement, then he made a noise of relief and fell back against his pillows. His grip on Sirius’s hand tightened once more, and he said quietly, “Hell, even if James is a pain about it for a while I’m glad they know.”

* * *

 

McGonagall came back at thirty minutes on the button. “Mr Black, it’s time to go,” she said, checking her watch as though she didn’t already know the precise minute. “The final lesson of the day is nearing an end. I’d like you to be clear of the castle before the students head to dinner.”

“Right, yes Professor,” Sirius said, reluctant to stand up and have to go home to his cold empty flat, even if it was only for a few hours before Remus would join him, “James and Pete already left.”

“I’m aware,” McGonagall said, giving their empty chairs a significant look, “I saw them, or rather I saw Mr Pettigrew talking to himself as he passed my office. Mr Potter’s new cloak is certainly an effective one.”

“Yeah, new,” Sirius murmured, but the Professor didn’t hear, she was taking in Remus’s obvious health approvingly.

“You look well, Mr Lupin,” McGonagall said then, her steely eye assessing their linked hands, which until that point Sirius had forgotten about. “Although I expect Mr Black’s company works wonders.”

“Yes Professor,” Remus said, his neck and ears coloured slightly, and his fingers twitched against Sirius’s. 

McGonagall pressed her lips together, and on anyone else Sirius would have assumed the expression to be one of disapproval - but he’d been on the receiving end of many disapproving looks in his life, a vast number of them from the Professor herself, and there was something much softer in her stoic face, almost like she was trying not to smile. But when she spoke she sounded like her normal stern self. “I’ll warn you not to make any bets with this boy, Remus.” She looked accusingly at Sirius, all possible hidden smiles gone. “He’s a whelsher.”

Sirius’s stomach dropped. _Arithmancy_ , he thought in trepidation. Sirius had figured McGonagall had forgotten all about it since it was so long ago now. More than a year and a half had gone by since he’d sat in her office and pleaded with her to let him swap into Arithmancy. In the end they had come to an agreement, Sirius could switch to Arithmancy, but he must achieve an _O_ on his _N.E.W.T._ , and if he didn’t he had to relinquish the Marauders prize possession- their enchanted map of Hogwarts.  It wasn’t his fault that Filch had confiscated the map halfway into the year, meaning Sirius was unable to meet his end of the deal.

 “I told you, Professor, Filch took it, so I couldn’t give it to you,” Sirius tried to explain, but McGonagall did not look forgiving, so he went on, “and anyway, I got an E, that must have been better than you were expecting.”

“A likely story,” the Professor said aloofly, “you should be ashamed, reneging on your word as a gentleman, very poor form Mr Black.” She fixed him with a stare of such disappointment that Sirius actually felt bad for a moment, then she spoke again, “I did wonder at the time why you were so determined to join Mr Lupin in Arithmancy, although that mystery is now solved.”

“Excuse me Professor,” Remus put in, polite as ever. “If you don’t mind, why did you let Sirius join our Arithmancy class? What did he offer you?”

Sirius cringed, the map wasn’t really his to bet after all; there was a reason he’d never let the others know about this little event.

McGonagall looked surprised that Remus didn’t know the full story, and her sharp black brows rose imperiously as she ratted Sirius out. “Mr Black told me that you four had created a map of the school that showed every resident and their movements, such a thing would be invaluable to security in times like these.” Sirius got the impression she was enjoying this a bit too much.  “But I shouldn’t have believed him, such an object is far too good to be true.”

“Oh, yes,” Remus agreed, and he rubbed his hand over his face. Sirius was sure he was trying to disguise his amusement.

“The real reason I allowed the change was that Mr Black’s constant disruptive behaviour with Mr Potter in Divination was enough to give poor Professor Imran a stroke.” She turned to look at Sirius again. “I merely hoped by allowing you to attend Arithmancy instead, Mr Lupin’s work ethic would rub off on you.”

Sirius snorted as he tried to hold in a laugh. “No need to be crass Professor, any rubbing between Remus and myself is strictly private.” McGonagall's eyebrows shot up so quickly Sirius wouldn’t have been surprised if they parted company with her forehead completely.

Remus groaned in embarrassment and flicked Sirius’s ear again. “Would you cut it out?”

“With me, Mr Black,” McGonagall commanded, all business once more, “I will not have you and your infamy causing a scene in the corridors right before dinner.”

 


	18. Part 5: IV

 

It had been nearly a week since James had stormed from the hospital wing and somehow, Sirius guessed by design, their paths had not even crossed at Headquarters. The silence from his best friend ate at him, he didn’t know how he was supposed to react. Twice he’d tried to contact James on his mirror, but no reply, just his own agitated face looking back at him as his breath fogged the glass.

Sirius’s most recent assignment had been deemed too risky for James to accompany him on - a night watch of a pub in Manchester’s Wizarding district - so Caradoc had been assigned to him instead. Sirius had asked Moody why he couldn’t pair with Remus while James was out of action – or as it seemed this week, _missing_ in action –  but Moody had said shortly that the watch roster was a delicate thing and that he couldn’t change it for every kid’s whim or fancy.

After three consecutive evenings of trying to single out drunk Death Eaters and corner them, with no luck, Sirius had not been expecting much tonight, but as it happened fate was smiling on them. He and Caradoc had coerced three very shady buggers into admitting that they had been selling non-tradables to a guy that fit Dolohov's description, and that they met him at the same place every week, meaning The Order could now hopefully ambush Dolohov and whoever he travelled with.

So it was with much higher spirits than usual that Sirius and Caradoc appeared in the dirty alley beside Sirius’s building; a Death Eater ambush sounded like brilliant fun to Sirius after weeks of no progress.

“Come up for a drink?” Sirius suggested, checking that no one had witnessed their appearance, but the alley was deserted as always. “Remus will be waiting up.”

“Sure,” Caradoc agreed. “When’s his next trip?”

“Couple of days,” Sirius said, with a slight sinking in his stomach as he did so. He tried to distract himself, get back the happy feeling of success, but instead ended talking about the wolves anyway. “He actually got a letter the other day, from the muggle postman,” he told Caradoc as they left the alley and rounded the brick wall of the block of flats.

“ _Delivered_ by the muggle postman you mean?” Caradoc asked, amused by Sirius’s mediocre knowledge of muggle things.

“Whichever”—Sirius shrugged—“he put it in my letterbox downstairs, I didn’t even know I had one!” Caradoc gave him a semi-affectionate ‘ _Typical Pureblood’_ look, and Sirius flipped him off in return, grinning easily. How was he supposed to know about frivolous contraptions like letterboxes? He had no muggle contacts, everyone that wanted to talk to him sent owls or Patronuses.

“The letter was from one of the boys,” he continued as he opened the downstairs door to his building, it was heavily graffitied, but Sirius sort of liked its anarchic artisticness, “Quinn, he wanted to tell Remus all about one of the books he’d been reading.”

“Those kids think he hung the moon.” Caradoc smiled fondly, flapping a hand when Sirius raised his eyebrows at the bad pun. “Whatever, Remus should definitely think about teaching when we’re done with this war, he’s got a bit of a gift.”

“I don’t think many parents would be happy with a werewolf teaching their children,” Sirius said realistically, as they started up the stairs. This was the same reply Remus gave whenever someone had suggested him pursuing a career in education, and Sirius found himself repeating it as a way to quell his vicarious hope for Remus. That must be the reason Remus always said it, to stop his own imagination running away with him, to a world where he wasn’t seen as a dangerous monster. 

“True,” Caradoc allowed. “But he could work at a muggle school, I don’t know. It’s just amazing to see the way Rhiannon’s boys look up to him.”

“He is pretty admirable,” Sirius said, trying to hide his little smitten grin, but obviously failing, because Caradoc shook his head and snorted indelicately.

“Your happiness is going to make me chuck.”

Sirius opened the door to his flat to find Remus in stripy pyjamas, sitting in his favourite chair next to the radiator. As usual, he was reading one of his many dog-eared books.

“Hey Grandad,” Sirius teased, as he shrugged off his leather jacket and flung it over the back of the sofa.

“Hi kids,” Remus replied, not fazed in the slightest by the insult. He calmly marked his page and closed his book. “How was it tonight?”

“Good,” Sirius said happily over his shoulder as he passed through the sitting room to the kitchen in search of drinks, “got a time and place to corner Dolohov, and whoever he’s with.”

“Brilliant,” said Remus, but there was a weird sort of edge to his voice.

“Yeah, do you want a beer too Moony?” Sirius asked as he pulled two from the larder.

“Sure.” He was quiet for a moment and then began hesitantly, “Um, Prongs sent a message earlier.”

Sirius nearly dropped his bottles. He stopped in front of Remus full of trepidation and more than a little hope. “Really?”

“Yeah, gave me a heart attack actually, his great stag running through the wall at me, thanks,” he added, taking his cold beer from Sirius’s outstretched hand. 

James’s patronus did tend to be a nasty surprise for people. “What did he say?” Sirius plonked down next to Caradoc on the couch, tossing a bottle his way. 

“Just that he might pop over tonight, Dumbledore's got him watching the boundary at Lestrange House again, so he said he’d drop in on his way home – and get this, _‘if that was okay.’_ ”

“Woah,” Sirius said. James didn’t ask for permission to do anything, unless it was from Lily of course. “Do you think he’s finally over his grump then?”

“Maybe, or is just sick of having no mates.”

“I might head off then,” Caradoc said apprehensively, “Potter really doesn’t like me, I’m too tired to deal with his shit tonight.” He stood up, his barely touched beer still in hand.

“No, stay,” Sirius said, yanking him back down next to him on the sofa. “James can suck it up, finish your drink at least.”

Caradoc was easily convinced. He gave a little grin. “I won’t deny that I’m sort of curious to see how this goes down, Potter is so bloody cocky, seeing you knock him down a peg or two might be fun.”

It was strange, Sirius thought, to hear such things about James. Logically, he knew most people thought James was a cocky prat, but most people who thought that, also thought Sirius was too, and therefore didn’t often share their opinions with him on the matter. It was a glaring reminder of the different type of friendship that he shared with Caradoc, that he was viewed as a singular and separate person from James, most people didn’t seem to bother to differentiate between the pair of them.

“Sirius said you got a letter from Quinn,” Caradoc said to Remus then, and Remus who’d been watching their interaction rather uncomfortably broke into a broad smile.

“Yes, it was in the letterbox downstairs yesterday morning, I wouldn’t have even checked it except I’m waiting for a reply from King's College.”

“As in the Uni?” Caradoc asked.

“Yep,” Remus said, and Caradoc gave an impressed whistle, Remus shook his head bashfully. “Helps when your A Levels are totally fraudulent,” he muttered. “But I figure now I’m back I should start preparing for life after the war.” 

“I didn’t know you’d done that,” Sirius said, all concerns over James and Caradoc chased away by this unexpected news. On one hand, it was nice to hear Remus at least was optimistic about an end to the war; on the other, he felt a little put out that his boyfriend didn’t feel the need to share his plans with him.

“Yeah, while I was with Mum and Dad I found all these prospectuses that Mum had got last year, before Dumbledore approached me about the wolves, and I told them I’d got into Avignon as a cover.”

“That's great Rem,” Sirius said, trying to ignore the odd little poke to his chest, a stab of hurt that he didn’t warrant inclusion or consultation in or on Remus’s future.

“I didn’t want to say anything until I had a better idea of my chances,” Remus added, correctly interpreting Sirius’s falsely bright smile. Sirius chugged on his bottle, mainly to stop himself saying something he’d regret, but it was half empty already. 

“What would you study?” Caradoc asked. “Funny, we were just talking about how you should be a teacher.”

Remus shrugged self-consciously. “Dunno, I just want to see what the requirements are first.”

There was a knock on the door then, rescuing Sirius from accidentally putting his big, ego-wounded foot in his mouth.

He got up to answer it just as James’s voice called, “Padfoot, you in?”

Sirius downed the last of his beer and snagged his wand from his jacket pocket before he opened the door an inch. He held his wand at the ready, one could never be too careful at the moment. But it was definitely James, looking sheepish but determined as he offered Sirius a tentative smile. “Hey mate,” he said, “did you get my message? I, er-”

Sirius opened the door wider. “Come in,” he said, his sudden unease making the welcome much more formal than usual. “Moony and Caradoc are here, would you like a beer?”

Surely another drink would drive away the bizarre ache that was growing in his belly, apparently caused by the sight of his best friend.

“Sounds good,” James replied, matching Sirius’s politeness. His eyes flitted around the room as he entered, pausing on Caradoc briefly and then coming to rest on Remus. “Hi Moony,” he said, “pyjama party is it?”

Remus looked down at himself and answered cautiously, obviously unsure if James was mad at him too, “It is _way_ past my bedtime.”

James gave him a funny look, but said pleasantly enough, “glad to see you’re still  an old man at heart.”

Sirius realised then how incongruent James’s anger was. Remus had not been snubbed or sneered at, it was only Sirius that he seemed to be mad at. This errant thought gave Sirius a tiny bit of hope. Did that mean it wasn’t the gay thing that bothered James so much, but that Sirius, his constant confidant and companion, hadn’t told him about it first?

“How was the hedge?” Sirius asked, in an effort at normalcy, as James sat down in Caradoc’s vacated seat. The blond man had found an urgent need to fetch the new drinks while Sirius had been at the door.

“The dullest bloody thing on the planet,” James grouched, accepting his bottle from Caradoc with a lifting of eyebrows and an attempt at a smile.

“Too bad,” Sirius said, receiving his own fresh drink gratefully. He cracked it open and swigged a healthy mouthful back, hoping it would give him courage for the awkwardness that was surely coming. “Though, at least dull means no chance of death right?”

“Bored to death perhaps.” James too took a long fortifying gulp from his bottle and then asked, “What were you up to tonight? Been sitting around here?”

“Nah, had a good one actually,” Sirius said enthusiastically, proud of his night’s work, “We were watching _Scale and Claw_ in Manchester, got a good lead on a time to ambush Dolohov.”

“Really?” James said, obviously impressed, “Merlin, it would be great to bring him in, Judson and Gibbon are normally with him aren’t they? You might get a hat-trick of slimy bastards.”

“Here’s hoping,” Sirius said. “So um, where’ve you been all week?”

James gave him a sharp look. “At home mostly. Pete came round on Wednesday, righteous little prat told me to pull my head in would you believe, said I should just be grateful for the friends I have.” He glanced at Caradoc, who’d sat on the floor next to Remus and was talking softly with him. “I don’t want to fight with you Pads,” he said, quietly, “Lily has been on and on at me, she says it doesn’t have to change anything, that you’re still the same guy you’ve always been but-”

“Prongs, seriously, I am the same,” Sirius said emphatically, “I really don’t get why that is so hard for you to understand.”

“ _Really_?” James asked incredulously, his voice rising, “You’ve been carrying on with Remus in secret and you say it's the same way I feel about Lily?”

Sirius gave a silent nod, even though he wasn't quite sure he wanted to _marry_ Remus, or if men even did that together.

James acknowledged Sirius’s confirmation with an almost sad grimace, his voice low again. “Then that's a bloody huge thing to hide from me.”

Sirius didn’t know how to reply, because for all that James didn’t really get it, he also had a point. The uncomfortable truth tightened, constricting around his heart.  

“For how long?” James asked when Sirius didn’t speak.

Sirius glanced over at Remus and Caradoc to make sure they were still distracted, he didn’t want an audience for this. Then he wrangled his courage and admitted, “Since the train home from school.” There was no point lying, maybe if he'd been honest since the start they wouldn’t be in this mess.

“What? You’re fucking kidding, nearly a _year_?” James said in disbelief, “But Moony was gone most of that time.”

“Yeah, we were writing letters to each other.” It seemed so innocent when said out loud, Sirius thought.

“But I didn’t think he was allowed contact with anyone”—James’s eyes narrowed—“he didn’t write to me, or to Pete.”

“He wasn’t supposed to, it was risky, but –”

Sirius paused, unsure how to convey the importance of their correspondence, how without it he had experienced such a lack of feeling, a powerful numbness that was his only defence against full blown depression.

Once again he decided to go with the truth. “I’ve actually, um, fancied him for a while, before Christmas at school last year, I was just too freaked out to tell him.”

James’s expression became much less angry at this confession. His mouth tilted down, and Sirius finally felt like he might be beginning to understand.

“But you told him on the train?” Then suddenly, as James finished speaking, the kind spark in his eyes was extinguished as he put two and two together. “Oh hell, the loo!” he exclaimed, both Caradoc and Remus jumped, looking over at them, but James was oblivious. “You guys were in the loo together, were you”—he screwed up his face in disgust—“oh gross, I don’t even want to know.”

“You won five gallons off Carmichael, remember?” Sirius said, not wanting to go into detail, “Even though he was technically right.”

“Ew.” James shuddered. “Please don’t.”

“Don’t be such a child,” Sirius tutted. “We had plenty of conversations about the girls at school, you were always asking for tips.”

“Yeah with _girls_ , Padfoot, this is blokes, two dicks, no tits, I just.” He swallowed, clearly repulsed. “I can’t even talk about it.”

“So what, are you going to puke every time I kiss Moony now?” Sirius said scathingly, offended by James’s over-reaction.

“Just keep it to yourselves and we’ll be fine.”

“Why should we?” Sirius snapped, his back up now, the number of times he’d seen far more of Lily or James than he’d ever wanted playing in his head, James was such a hypocrite. “It’s not like I’ll be sucking his cock in your sitting room James, seeing us kiss goodbye is hardly a crime.”

“It is in Scotland,” James muttered, half under his breath, sounding quite mutinous.

“What?” Sirius said, shocked out of his annoyance momentarily. “Really?”

James nodded, almost apologetically. “For the muggles anyway.”

 _Surely not,_ Sirius thought, how could they police what consenting adults did in their bedroom?

“Did you know that?” Sirius lifted his voice to ask Caradoc, who was pretending not to listen again, but both him and Remus were entirely too still as the discussion mere feet away had become more and more heated.

“What?” he asked, still lending the pretence that he had not heard.

“That being gay is illegal in Scotland.” _Ridiculous,_ Sirius thought, as he repeated the question.

Caradoc shook his head. “ _Being_ gay isn’t illegal,” he clarified, his words slightly biting, “just the physical act of two men having sex.” He looked between Remus and Sirius, and his techy tone vanished, his usual teasing smirk lifting his lips. “So I hope you two didn’t get up to too much mischief the other night,”—he started to laugh—“the local Bobbies might come and haul you away.”

“Oh, _really_ ,” James whined, instantly understanding the implications of Caradoc’s ribbing, “we were right there, in the next room-”

“Honestly Potter,” Caradoc cut in shortly. “Why the drama? Get Lily to stick her finger up your arse when you get home, then you’ll see what all the fuss is about.” Then he sent him a ludicrous wink and Sirius nearly laughed.

James just shook his head in horrified silence, and Sirius felt a moment of compassion for him- he knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of Caradoc’s bawdy, blasé attitude to sex.

But Sirius wasn’t asking James to be okay with descriptive anecdotes about cocks in bums or lurid details on the art of sucking dick. He just wanted him to accept that he and Remus were a valid couple, and that they would behave like it as far as social standards deemed acceptable… while in company anyway. 

 “You need to get over this, James,” Sirius said, as bluntly as he could, “I’m with Remus, I’m going to kiss him whenever I feel like it, whether you can see or not.”

James held his eyes for a moment, and then glanced over to where Remus and Caradoc were studiously ignoring them again, and Sirius began to think he’d done it, convinced him. There was a happy bubble swelling inside him, finally, they could move on.

But then James’s lip curled in disgust once more, and his face grew hard, before he said callously, “Don’t expect me to protect you when you get your head bashed in for being queer then.”

Sirius was on his feet in a heartbeat. The bubble of hope had burst, leaving only agitated exasperation in its place. “Since when do I need your help in a fight?” he challenged spitefully.

“Since you decided to flaunt this shit!” James replied, matching the heat in Sirius’s voice and standing too, “Don’t you think we have enough to deal with right now? You want to give people another reason to single you out?”

“Nobody cares Prongs! Only you!”

“Of course I fucking care! My best mate being whispered about, made fun of, of course I care,” he finished, desperate and furious at the same time.

“Get it through your head!” Sirius shouted, insanely annoyed that James wouldn’t hear him. He pushed him roughly in the chest with one hand, as if he could force the information inside him, force him to accept it. “It’s not a _decision_ , I love Remus, that’s more important to me than a bit of gossip!”

“Back off! You -” James staggered back, stunned that Sirius had actually resorted to schoolyard tactics.

But Sirius didn’t back off, frustration and anger were licking at his insides like flames. He shoved James again. “You need to get over it, what does it matter if people talk? I’m happy- we’re happy!”

“Don’t fucking push me!” James yelped, shoving Sirius back, and before Sirius could retaliate Remus was there, standing between them, his hand in the middle of Sirius’s chest, his fingers spread over his heart.

“Cut it out,” he said sternly, “both of you.”

“And you!” James snapped at Remus, he really seemed to have lost it now, hazel eyes wild behind his glasses, “You’re just as bad, encouraging him, you know what he’s like when he gets an idea in his head.” He drew breath, and Remus simply gaped, confounded by the accusation. “I suppose it was your idea to keep it a secret,” James continued nastily, “always secrets with you.”

Remus looked completely taken aback, and his voice was horribly cold when he spoke, low and threatening, “Do you think this is some game for me James? I’ve wanted this since I was sixteen -”

“Then why didn’t you tell us?” James snarled, his anger fully directed at Remus now, “You’ve been queer all that time and you kept it a secret, after all the shit we went through for you? We shouldn’t have fucking bothered.”

A powerful gust of breath left Remus’s mouth, as though he’d been punched, his restraining hand dropped to his side and something painful twisted in Sirius’s chest as Remus’s face drained of colour, so obviously hurt by James’s thoughtless words.

“Potter, shut the fuck up,” said a dangerous voice. Caradoc had entered the fray, his eyes flashed with a fury Sirius had never seen before, he was looking steadily at James as he approached. “Go home before you say something you can’t take back.”

“You keep out of this,” James spat dismissively, “You’ve no idea–” He tried to push Caradoc out of the way, but he might as well have been trying to shift a brick wall.

Caradoc grabbed his upper arm, obviously intent on steering him toward the door.

“Get your hands off me,” James hissed indignantly, trying to jerk free. “Fucking _faggot_.”

The horrible slur sparked something in Caradoc, something that Sirius had seen a glimmer of moments before, and Sirius knew what was about to happen before it did.

Caradoc’s knuckles whitened where they held James fast, and then he drew back his free fist and landed a solid punch in James’s stomach. James’s eyes bulged as Caradoc released him, and he fell to his knees, hands clutching his middle.

The sight of his best friend injured on the floor made Sirius’s vision blur scarlet; it obliterated the last moments where James had been the biggest arsehole on the planet, all he could think was _Prongs is hurt_. _CARADOC hurt him_.

Caradoc, who didn’t know what Sirius and James shared, how James had always been there, even as awkward eleven year olds James had tried to comfort Sirius when he couldn’t handle his horrid mother and abusive father. It wasn’t Caradoc’s place to interfere. It was this thought that forced him into action.

Sirius grabbed Caradoc by the arm, noticing as he did so that the big man moved easily for him. Remus had dropped to kneel beside James, and so there was no one to stop Sirius’s irrational rage as he hit Caradoc himself, his knuckles cracking painfully as they connected with his jaw.

Caradoc stumbled, his eyes wide and shocked as his hand cradled his swelling face. “Sirius- I, you can’t let him say shit like that- its- “

“He’s my best mate,” Sirius said savagely, “I’ll deal with him, you don’t get to–”

But Caradoc wasn’t deterred. “You have no idea! You deserve so much better than a mate who doesn’t accept –”

“I lied to him!” Sirius shouted, the guilt he’d been suffering from for so long caused his voice to wobble slightly, “He’s allowed to be pissed!”

“Fucking hell!” Caradoc fumed frustratedly, “Can’t you see?” He extended a hand toward Sirius but seemed to think better of it, and it dropped limply at his side. The anger leached from his face as he stared openly at Sirius, holding his gaze determinedly. “I wish you’d realise.”

These words filtered slowly through Sirius’s turbulent brain, their meaning intensifying the self-reproach he’d been squashing down, the feelings he’d been ignoring best he could for longer than he wanted to admit, and yet he found it hard to look away from Caradoc’s handsome, anguished face. But there was nothing he could do to ease Caradoc’s unhappiness, because Remus mattered more, James mattered more, and now there was an icy knife carving away at Sirius’s heart.

He had no other choice.

“Get out,” he said bleakly, breaking eye-contact at last, “just go.”

Caradoc’s shoulders slumped, and he appeared to shrink slightly in defeat. With a regretful sigh he scooped his jacket up as he crossed the room but paused briefly at the door to mutter, “I’m sorry, Sirius.”  

Remus was on his feet by this point, still in his stripy pyjamas with James leaning heavily on his shoulder. For a moment Sirius could not find it in himself to meet Remus’s gaze; he did not want to see accusation, or worse, betrayal there. His blood was pounding heavily, rushing in his ears, and his breath shaking as the fight drained from him. He chanced a look at Remus and caught the oddest expression of something like smugness flashing across his face as the door snapped shut behind Caradoc.

“Padfoot,” James wheezed, the air still not able to reach his lungs properly, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said…” He took another sharp, shallow breath. “I don’t understand this, you know”—he flipped his hand to encompass Remus and Sirius and their sordid canoodling—“but I’ll get there.”

“I know mate,” Sirius said earnestly, the fluttering hollowness he was left with in the wake of his rage made him cling to James’s apology. “I knew you’d need a bit of time to get used to it, that’s why we hadn’t told you yet, we were going to though, soon.”

James massaged his aching stomach, and winced. “There goes my theory on queers in a fight though right?”

“I think you need to reassess most of your theories on _queers_ Prongs,” Remus said, with gentle reprimand, “but for now, how about just calling us gay?”

James drew a whistling breath, and nodded. “Reasonable as always Moony.”

Sirius was at a loss. That was it? James was sorry and Remus had forgiven him just like that? Did that mean Sirius had as well? Honestly, he’d been ready to forgive James the moment he apologised, so why did he, himself, still feel so uneasy?

He looked at the door Caradoc had left through, and his knuckles gave a painful throb. Sirius hadn’t had a bout of uncontrollable rage like that in a long time, not since school, and why would Caradoc of all people provoke such a reaction? Grimacing to himself, Sirius thought the answer to that was quite clear, and unfortunately Remus probably knew it too, but it was something he couldn’t deal with right now.

The remorse flooding him was so familiar, the regret of letting his emotions rule him like that was something he’d never quite figured out how to cope with. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve had some pretty horrible news in R/L so I will warn that I may vanish again for a wee while, but I hope not. Fanfiction is about the best therapy (escapism) you can get for free. 
> 
> George xx


	19. Part 6:l

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... seven months, sorry about that!! I hope you haven't all given up on me!! 
> 
> George xx

Sirius hadn’t seen James cry in years. Not properly. It was something he was quite glad about because honest emotion - the pain of open, glaring heartbreak - always made him uncomfortable. But as he and James stood side-by-side at the edge of the freshly dug grave, the tears trailing down his own cheeks seemed like a pretty lacking tribute.

They were farewelling the two people who had given Sirius a home when he’d been without at the age of sixteen, and had parented him even though he hadn’t thought he’d needed it. A few tears weren’t nearly enough in repayment.

The Potters’ funeral had been a massive affair. The church at Godric’s Hollow had been standing room only, something that had surprised Sirius when he’d stood from his seat in the front row at the end of the service. He’d spent the majority of the service determinedly staring at the stained glass windows behind the two coffins in an effort to maintain his composure.

Mr and Mrs Potter had been wintering in Cairns, Australia, and no one had thought anything amiss until they failed to return at the beginning of May. The last month had been hell for James, he and Lily had been turning the north of Queensland upside down to try and find them. It had been a very small silver lining for James that at least this was something he could do himself - no fear of Death Eater attack down there at the bottom of the world.

But a week ago, a sighting had been reported. Unfortunately, by the time James reached the dusty town in the Northern Territory, the muggle who'd reported seeing them was nowhere to be found. James’s parents were, however. The motel they’d checked into had been abandoned, but Mr and Mrs Potter had been discovered lying side-by-side on the bed in the small shabby room, both stiff and lifeless.

Sirius couldn’t begin to understand what effect this must be having on James, to find his loving parents dead when they had been so far removed from all the danger in Britain. The mystery of their sudden disappearance had been solved almost at once; a wand had been found at the scene that showed repeated use of the Imperious Curse.  Whoever had been trying to control the Potters seemed to have had a difficult time of it.

James moved at Sirius’s side, and Sirius watched with an absent kind of horror as his best friend stooped to take a handful of dirt from the pile at the foot of the grave and scattered it on his parents’ coffins. James murmured something inaudible before he stepped back, his bottom lip trembling with a fresh surge of grief.

_ This was so cruel, _ Sirius thought, glancing around at all the onlookers. James should not have to say his final goodbyes in front of an audience. These people did not know Mr and Mrs Potter; they would not miss them like James would, be reminded of them constantly or feel like they had been left alone in the world. Most of these people would be returning to work this afternoon. They would go home to their families tonight; they were not leaving their loving parents in a hole in the ground.

Sirius sniffed as James turned to resume his place next to him. Lily welcomed him back with a fortifying embrace, her cheeks mared with tear tracks too, and she whispered consoling encouragement in his ear when he leaned on her briefly. They parted and Lily stepped forward, reaching out a hand to Sirius and leading him toward the grave with her. Apparently, it was their turn now.

Sirius took a handful of the turned earth and threw it on to the gleaming wooden surfaces of the two caskets side-by-side in the deep hole. Lily threw hers too as she spoke to the coffins in a wavering voice. “Don’t worry, I’ll look after him.”

“Bye,” Sirius managed, his voice cracking, the enormity and significance overwhelming. What on earth was he supposed to say?  “Thanks, for- for everything.”

Lily took him by the arm and steered him back to his spot beside James, and Sirius wished so much that Remus was there, so he could lean on him. Surely that would help the massive cavity that seemed to be opening up inside him as he looked at his silently crying best friend.

James slung his arm around Sirius when he reached him. He crushed him to his side before he gave a hearty sniff and said wetly, “come on now, you big sook.”

Sirius hugged him back, sniffing and shaking his head at James’s attempted teasing. James had been using random bits of Australian slang ever since he’d gotten back. Sirius assumed it was his way of lightening the grim mood that had hovered over them this past week.  A weak, watery laugh worked its way up his throat as the rest of the funeral party took turns in scattering a bit of dirt and muttering sombre words. Many stopped to pat James on the shoulder as they passed, and most nodded to Sirius too, but he was oblivious to their condolences.  

* * *

 

The wake that followed was not as sad as the funeral itself. Sirius had removed himself from the milling people, they all seemed too cheerful to him as they stood chatting over finger sandwiches  and cups of tea. Sirius had found a little alcove at the back of the tea room, and he stood there, just out of sight as he watched James and Lily move hand-in-hand through the crowd, accepting people's kind words, thanking them for their offers of help, and smiling at the stories Mr and Mrs Potters’ old friends shared from their lives.

A voice suddenly surprised Sirius from nearby. “There you are,” he heard, and turned to see Caradoc looking very dapper in a black suit, carrying a little plate of savouries.

“You look like a waiter,” Sirius replied shortly, not much fancying company when he was sure his eyes were still puffy and he was in desperate need of a cigarette.

“Be nice,” Caradoc chided lightly. He surveyed the crowd in silence for a moment. “Potter is doing well.”

“Yeah,” Sirius agreed, “better than me. I don’t know how he can stand it.” He scanned the little groups of chatting guests and added bitterly, “none of them care.”

“Of course they do,” Caradoc said with the same gentle reprimand that had met Sirius’s less than friendly greeting. “Not as much as Potter, mind, but they need to say goodbye too.”

“And how come you’re here?” Sirius asked. He really hadn’t meant to sound rude, but Caradoc’s raised eyebrows suggested he had been.

“To pay my respects to two people who have been funding the Order since it was just an ambitious idea Dumbledore had back in Seventy-Four,” he said bluntly, before he turned his attention to his little plate and selected a salmon pinwheel. 

Sirius watched him take a bite and swallow it, not quite sure what to say to that. He’d been thinking that Caradoc had turned up just to hunt him out. They hadn’t been speaking much since their argument about James so many months ago. 

But eventually Caradoc went on, filling the stilted silence. “Without them Dorcas would be pretty short on her medi-gear. It was actually Mrs Potter who convinced her to leave her position at St Mungo’s to come and work for us.”

“Really?” Sirius asked, finding his voice, he’d had no idea that the Potters were so involved with the Order. “I didn’t know that.”

“Yup.” Caradoc smiled, clearly glad Sirius was talking normally to him again. “They were our biggest financial backers in the beginning. And Dorcas was the one who convinced me to join up, we’ve been friends since we started school together.”

“Oh,” Sirius said, irritated that he still felt uncomfortable around Caradoc; his guilty conscience made him hyper-conscious of every little thing he said.  He turned to survey the guests again, and watched James and Lily making their way through the crowd toward them. “Er, does James know you’re here?” he asked hastily, “he might not want…”

Sirius cringed as James spotted him and Caradoc; the two men had been studiously ignoring each other over the last four months, since James had called Caradoc a fag and Caradoc had punched him in retaliation. But he had apparently misjudged James’s grudge holding, because James nodded at Caradoc as he approached. “Dearborn,” he said, quite cordially.

“Potter,” Caradoc replied in kind. “Your parents were excellent people, this is such a loss for the community.”

“Thanks,” James said, then gave Caradoc a funny look and added, “Mum liked you.”

“She did?” Caradoc said, taken aback but obviously pleased James was being friendly.

“Yeah,” James nodded. “Thought you needed to hurry up and marry Meadowes, though.”

Caradoc’s eyebrows went up again, in surprise this time. He let out a singular, rather shocked laugh and said, “If only she knew, eh?”

“Probably for the best that she didn’t,” James said, then shot Sirius a quick half-smile as if to say, ‘ _ See? I can be a grown-up _ ,’ before he said more seriously, “We’ll get out of here soon, Padfoot, don’t worry.”

“I’ve got nowhere else to be,” Sirius said, and it was true. A cold empty flat awaited him when he returned, so he would stay where he was until James and Lily went home.

“When is Moony due back?” Lily asked, and Sirius knew that Lily at least was aware of the toll Remus’s absences took on him. “This has been a long trip.”

It had been. Three whole weeks; Remus didn’t even know Mr and Mrs Potter were dead. “He’s helping them set up a more permanent camp, doing the protective charms and stuff,” Sirius said in a low voice, trying to sound impressed with Remus’s usefulness rather than resentful. “He should be back anyday now.”

“Well, as soon as he’s back, get me on the mirror,” James said, his expression brightening properly for the first time in days. “We’ve got some important business to attend too.”

“You and Moony?” Sirius asked, nonplussed.

“No, all of us.” James said.

“Doing what?” Sirius asked, and it was Lily who answered.

“We’ve decided not to wait anymore,” she said, a suppressed sort of excitement in her voice. “As soon as Remus is back and Peter’s mum lets him leave her side, we’re getting married.”

The pronouncement sent a frisson of hope through Sirius - something good, something  _ easy  _ to look forward to - although he was mostly just surprised they’d decided to do it so soon. “But I thought…  _ Merlin _ ,” he stuttered, “Okay then.”

It was a weird moment, Sirius thought as Lily beamed at him, her eyes still red from the funeral. It was a total contradiction.  

James was grinning happily as well. “It's what Mum and Dad would want,” he said, his voice only wavering slightly. “You know how Mum kept going on about us living in sin.”

Sirius grinned too, as a strange kind of relief began bridging the chasm Mr and Mrs Potters’ deaths had left in his chest.

* * *

 

Remus returned the day after the funeral, exhausted and weary but more concerned that he’d not been there for James and Sirius when they needed him. He’d been filled in at Headquarters on the way home about the Potters’ unexpected demise.

“You could have sent Caradoc out to find me,” Remus said, his hand trailing over Sirius’s still bare arse. They hadn’t even made it to the bedroom. Remus had flung his arms around Sirius the moment he’d entered the sitting room and they’d hugged, swaying slightly, and then the hug had changed and Remus’s hands had been inside Sirius’s clothes and Sirius had been desperate for the positive rush sex delivered. Sirius felt infinitely better in that moment than he had since receiving the news of Mr and Mrs Potters’ murders, but whether orgasm or just Remus’s presence were responsible, he wasn’t sure.

“I don’t really talk to him that much anymore,” Sirius said. “It’s weird now.”

“I’m sorry,” Remus murmured, and Sirius made a little scoffing noise into the sofa cushion. Only Remus and his boundless compassion could be sorry that his boyfriend and the bloke that  _ fancied  _ his boyfriend weren’t getting along that well.

“Shut up,” Remus muttered, knowing what was going on in Sirius’s head. “He’s a good guy,” he said, shrugging as he did so. His shoulder bumped into Sirius’s chin as he moved and Sirius struggled to sit up. His left hand was full of tingling pins-and-needles from the cramped position it had been in; trapped beneath Remus’s pointy shoulder blade.

“Besides,” Remus said, sitting up too and stretching his arms up above his head. His knuckles cracked disturbingly as he laced them together and pushed. “It’s not like I can blame him for being a bit, er...  _ protective _ of you.”

Sirius tugged his boxers back on - it just seemed wrong to talk about Caradoc with his dick hanging out. “We should get a move on,” he said brightly, changing the subject. “James was pretty keen to start getting things ready as soon as possible.”

“What things?” Remus asked as he pulled his own underwear back on.

Sirius grinned. “Things for his wedding.” 


	20. Part 6: II

* * *

* * *

_Thanks for all the comments on the last chapter, it's so nice to know people are still reading! xx_

* * *

 

The Evans’ back garden was a pretty place, not large, but carefully manicured. Sirius was sure that most of the plants had been helped along with a bit of magic, their early summer blossoms all looked a little too perfect to be completely muggle. There was a tidy red brick path leading from the back door to a circular patio, and that day a wooden arch stood in the centre. Bunting, lights, and bright floral garlands streamed from it, tied to tall branches in the trees that boarded the small property. It gave the feeling of a festive transparent marquee.

Sirius was once again feeling out of place, standing in the sunlight in this sweet garden, dressed in a grey muggle suit. There was a miniature lily in his buttonhole, and every time he looked at it, he wanted to roll his eyes at James’s corniness.

“I knew I should have asked Pete to be my best man,” James grumbled as he looked Sirius up and down after fiddling with his own lily. “I’m supposed to be the good-looking one today.”

“Terribly sorry, mate,” Sirius said, pulling at his collar uncomfortably. “You’re the one who told me to have a shave–” he broke off, interrupted by a trilling voice calling across the lawn. Mrs Evans was standing on the back step, a flowery apron tied over her mauve jacket and matching skirt. Her short, faded auburn hair was blow-waved and glossy in the sunshine.    

“James, dear, people will be arriving any minute,” Lily’s mother began. “Is there any more of your hocus-pocus to do?”

“No, Mrs Evans,” James called back patiently, “we’re all sorted.”

Her lips drew in, slightly pinched, as she continued apologetically. “Well, it’s just that I’m sure the carpet in the sitting room could look a little fresher. Would you mind? It will only take a moment.”

Sirius had only met Mrs Evans a handful of times, but he knew from James’s many good-natured complaints that she was quite obsessed with the cleanliness of her house, and liked to put any magical person she met to work fixing, polishing or, like that day, vanishing dust.   

“I’ll help, Mrs Evans,” Remus said, coming to join them from where he’d been helping Peter arrange the last of the chairs. There were only two rows; today’s gathering was going to be a small one. Neither of them were wearing their jackets yet, and Sirius found the way Remus’s tailored white shirt clung to his biceps very distracting.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Mrs Evans gushed. “It's so handy having all you magical boys around to help. Life must be so easy in your world!”

Remus smiled politely while James and Sirius exchanged a glance behind Mrs Evans’s back. Lily’s parents had no idea of the danger tearing through the magical community. It just seemed safer, and kinder, to keep them in the dark. Their holiday in Majorca last summer had been disguised as a thank-you gift from the Potters, a way to repay them for having such a lovely daughter who’d helped keep their son in line during his seventh year.

Twenty minutes later, the muggles began to arrive. James and Sirius were put to the test over and over again as they greeted the guests; discussions of television shows and local politics were completely beyond them. Sirius was just smiling and nodding along with an aunt and uncle of Lily’s who were babbling about someone called Maggie who was going to sort out all those dole-youths, when a barrel-chested young man approached them.

“You’re the best man?” he asked, though it was less of an inquiry and more like an accusation.

“I am,” Sirius confirmed, glad to have an excuse to turn away from the aunt and uncle. “Sirius Black, the groom's best friend.”

“Nice to meet you,” the man said. He was rather beefy for his age, which must have been close to Sirius’s own. The collar of his shirt looked too tight around his thick neck. “I’m Vernon Dursley,  Petunia’s fiancé.”

Sirius shook his hand, which was big and heavy like the rest of him. “Nice little do this, isn’t it?” Vernon said, but he didn’t  pause to allow Sirius to comment. “Mine and Petunia’s wedding will be a bit larger, of course,  St Matthias in Richmond is really very nice; traditional, it seats one hundred and fifty easily.”

“Heavens,” Sirius said, disliking the way Vernon’s tone implied that this intimate backyard wedding was inferior somehow. “Come from a big family, do you?”

“No, no,” Vernon said hastily, as though Sirius’s question had offended him. “No, my father has a lot of friends, business associates, and I’m a junior account manager at a big firm in London; need to keep everyone happy.” He gave Sirius a put-upon smile that said, _‘it really is such a hassle to be so very important.’_

“What sort of firm?” Sirius asked, keeping it as friendly as he could while trying to think of muggle professions that required Vernon's amount of smugness.  “Law?” he tacked on, deciding that fit the bill.

“Er, no,” Vernon replied, his puffed up chest deflating slightly. “Drills, as a matter of fact. Doing very well,” he blustered, “the new government will only make things better too, private contracts and all that. What do you do?”

“Not much,” Sirius said, and he could feel his well-bred accent thickening of it’s own accord; Vernon really rubbed him up the wrong way. “I only finished school last summer, took a year off to weigh my options.” It wasn’t like he could tell the truth; as if Vernon would believe that Sirius fought dark wizards on a weekly basis.

“Still living at home, then?” Vernon asked, his round face full of maddening condescension.

“Good heavens, no,” Sirius drawled, hating himself just a tiny bit as he laid it on thick. “I inherited. An uncle left me everything, including a flat in London. I’m living the dream, as it were.”

“I see.” Vernon bristled, and Sirius could tell that his posh-twat act was the perfect way to piss this self-important bugger off. “What about the groom? Petunia never did tell me me what he does.”

“James inherited too,” Sirius said at once, having to fight a grin as Vernon’s eyes narrowed. “Significantly more than me, he has a large country estate to run now. That should keep him fairly busy.”

“So neither of you actually _work_?” Vernon’s outrage was poorly concealed; Sirius could see a vein beginning to pulse at his temple. He scrunched his nose in distaste and prepared to put the final nail in the coffin.

“Not if we can help it. Rather gets in the way of one’s social life, don’t you think?”

Vernon was probably the easiest person to read Sirius had ever met. He smirked superiorly at him and could see the indignation boiling up in Vernon’s face, an ugly red colouring his neck and cheeks. Thankfully he was saved from having to either run away or punch the bugger, because at that moment Mrs Evans’s excited voice called out once more.

“To your seats everyone, the ceremony is about to start!”

Sirius dodged away from the angry Vernon, snagged a pale-looking James by the elbow and steered him up to the front, beneath the arch and in front of the little black-robed vicar.

“You’re not nervous are you, Prongs?” Sirius whispered, taking in his pale complexion. “You’ve been talking about this day since we were sixteen.”

“I know, I know,” James murmured back, “not nervous, not really, more excited; my heart’s going a mile a minute.”

Suddenly the music changed from the pleasant background hum to a swelling, sweet piano tune that Sirius vaguely recognised. The back door opened and Petunia, Lily’s sister and only bridesmaid, came gliding down the steps. There were flowers in her mousy hair and her dress hung prettily on her slender frame, the knee-length hem fluttering slightly in the afternoon breeze.

Then it was Lily’s turn.

It wasn’t until later that Sirius noticed the intricacies of her dress, with its perfectly fitted ivory lace and delicate pearl buttons. He barely even registered the way her long auburn hair waved softly over her shoulders, a wreath of tiny white flowers circling her head, bright against her russet hair. He didn’t notice these cosmetic adornments because the wide, gleeful smile on her face drew all of his attention as she walked across the lawn toward them, her hand balanced in the crook of her father's elbow.

Lily was no blushing bride. She was proud, her head held high, her eyes glinting with something like mischief as they met James’s. An almost palpable happiness radiated from her, for all the guests to see. Everyone beamed back at her as she passed them, and a murmuring chuckle swept through the gathered people as she blew a kiss at Peter, who was sitting aisle-side next to Remus, and mouthed a very obvious _“sorry”_ to him.

James and Sirius both laughed as Pete pretended to look wounded and Remus consoled him.

Then Lily was there, in front of the vicar. Her father kissed her on the cheek and clapped a hand to James’s shoulder. Sirius, who expected Mr Evans to offer James advice, or even a friendly warning, was surprised when all he said was, “Have fun you two.”

Sirius had attended many family weddings in his youth. During most of them he’d sat fidgeting in his dress robes, earning glares from his mother and making Regulus giggle by pulling silent ridiculous faces at her back whenever she turned around. This time, however, was different; he grinned the whole way through as James and Lily promised to look after and respect each other for the rest of their lives. These two people, he thought, were meant to be. He doubted whether death itself would even be able to part them.

Sirius clapped and cheered along with everyone else when James dipped Lily flamboyantly to kiss her at the vicar’s word, the guests raining handfuls of confetti and rice over the still kissing couple.

* * *

 

Several hours later, the back garden was dark, lit only by the lights from the kitchen spilling out over the lawn in long golden stripes. James and Lily were still there, sitting across from Sirius in a couple of the rearranged ceremony chairs. Remus was there too, on Sirius’s left, and Peter was on his right, holding a bottle of beer and snickering at the verbal replay of Lily’s joke as she walked up the aisle.

They’d all had quite a few after Lily’s muggle relatives had begun to leave. It turned out the relatives were mostly just life-long friends of her parents, people who she’d grown up around and therefore called aunt and uncle. Sirius hadn’t known that Lily had just as few blood relatives as James before then.  

“I thought the bride and groom were supposed to leave first,” Remus said, his own beer nearly empty, three others in a messy pile next to the leg of his chair. Apparently Remus was letting his hair down tonight.

James shrugged as Lily leaned her head on his shoulder, her flowery headband slightly askew. “Why? To rush off and have disappointing first time sex? We got that out of the way years ago.”

 _“Disappointing?_ ” Lily repeated in offence.

James laughed. “For you, dear, I’m sure. You had grass stains all over your skirt, it can’t have been that great out there under the Quidditch st–” Lily cut him off by slapping her hand over his mouth, and Sirius, Remus and Peter all burst out laughing as James gave his new wife a mildly apologetic grimace. Sirius remembered that day, a fine Saturday afternoon in April when James had returned from the grounds with Lily, grinning and sighing moonily over every little thing. It had been sickening.

“How come you didn’t invite any of your friends, Lily?” Peter asked then. “Mary or Lucy, they would have wanted to come, wouldn’t they?”

“I didn’t want to risk it,” Lily said sadly. “I’m sure they wouldn’t tell anyone where my parents lived on purpose, but with James’s parents gone, we just don’t know where the Death Eaters will turn next. We decided the more muggle this wedding was, the better.”

“That makes sense,” Peter said, “and you couldn’t blame someone if the Death Eaters threatened their family. That’s the worst thing about this war. Everyone has to protect themselves.”

Sirius paused with his bottle halfway to his mouth. Peter said some odd things sometimes. What was he even doing in the Order if he thought everyone should be looking out for himself? He opened his mouth to point that out, but Remus got in first.

“Wormtail,” he said sharply, making Sirius realise how tipsy Remus really was to be so abrupt,  “you do know that the whole point of the Order is to prevent that kind of thinking?”   

“Enough of that,” James cut in. “No Voldy talk on our wedding day.” Then he grinned. “Moony, what have you been up to lately? Got your own little pack now?”

“Sort of,” Remus nodded, accepting the diversion and looking away from Peter, who was slumped in his chair, obviously cowed by Remus’s out of character temper.  “Rhiannon is much more a leader than I am, though, I just fix stuff for them.”

“That’s so dangerous, Moony,” Peter said, overdoing it a little, by way of apology no doubt. “Aren’t you worried about being there when Greyback finds them?”

That question sat oddly with Sirius too, and he stared at Peter for a moment. There was definitely something up with him. “What do you know about Greyback, Pete?” he asked.

“Nothing, “ Peter said quickly, “I just know he’s like the werewolf boss… right? Isn’t that who got you beaten up, Moony? When you came back the first time?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Remus said slowly, turning suspicious eyes on Sirius as he continued addressing Peter. “I didn’t know we’d talked about that.”

“I might have mentioned it,” James said. “Sorry, we were so worried when you got back, and then Sirius said that the leader of the pack had a problem with you.”

“Hold on,” Remus said, suspicion morphing into a full blown frown as he stared at Sirius, then glanced at James and Peter in concern as though something had just occurred to him. “No one is supposed to know that I was even with the wolves in the first place.”

“We’re not idiots, Moony,” James said shortly.

“Yeah,” Lily put in, “what else would Dumbledore ask you to do? You’re the perfect spy.”

“I… well, I didn’t realise you all knew,” he mumbled, before taking a consoling gulp from his bottle.

“What was it like?” Lily asked, her tone softening as she leaned forward, her sympathy for Remus’s plight evident, “And your ones, the ones you visit, are they okay?”

“Yeah, they are now. But it’s–” Remus paused, frowning at Sirius again, “–it’s shit, to tell you the truth. I hated it.”

“Where are they?” Peter asked. “I mean, do you have to go far to visit them?”

Remus was beginning to look even more uncomfortable, like he knew he shouldn’t be talking about this. But with Lily and James both listening eagerly now too, Sirius could tell that Remus was trying to decide whether it was worth offending them by refusing to answer.

“Not too far,” he said eventually, “a cave in the Black Mountains. Caradoc tracked them to the banks of the Wye when they first made a run for it, but the river meant he lost their trail. It turns out they didn’t actually go much further, even though they managed to hide their trail from Greyback’s men.”  

“Does Dearborn know the area well?” James asked, pausing contemplatively for a second, “He is Welsh, right?”

“Obviously,” Sirius said, with an amused grunt of disbelief that James would even need that clarified. Caradoc’s name alone was a dead give-away, and while his accent wasn’t thick, it was still most definitely Welsh. “But he’s not from Powys,” Sirius went on, “his family are in Gwynedd. His Dad’s a ranger.”

Remus gave him a fleeting quizzical look which confused Sirius; why shouldn’t he know about Caradoc’s family? They had been friends for nearly a year now, after all.

“The Black Mountains?” Peter repeated, “that’s a pretty big area, are you going back soon?”

“Nope.” Remus sighed happily, all traces of agitation suddenly gone, courtesy of the bottle in his hand no doubt. “They’re all set up now and summer is an easy time; lots of food, lots of daylight to get things done. I get to be here for at least another two months, if not more.”

“Chuck us another stubby from the esky, Pete,” James said, interrupting the cheering going on in Sirius’s brain. He was looking forward to the summer an indecent amount.

Sirius and Remus both groaned at James’s ridiculous sentence. Peter just looked confused.

“It’s a fucking cool-box, _mate,”_ Sirius said, in a poor attempt at an Australian accent, rolling his eyes and nudging the cooler across the circle with his foot so James could get his own beer.

“Just because I’m more worldly than you now, Pads,” James said loftily. “No need to be so bitter.”

“Whatever.” Sirius grinned and shook his head at his best friend. James’s upperclass tongue trying to find its way around those Aussie colloquialisms was definitely funny, even if it was also a bit annoying.

With a fresh drink in hand, Sirius sat back and surveyed their little group. James and Lily were leaning on one another, hands joined, still in their wedding garb. Peter looked relaxed once more too. Sirius wished their chubby friend would worry about things less, it must be exhausting to always expect the worst to happen. All that time spent in Mrs Pettigrew’s company really wasn’t doing him any good. But he seemed happy enough again now, so maybe he just needed to see his friends a bit more often, to be reminded that he wasn’t alone.

And then there was Remus, his eyes a little droopy from the drink, his lips turned up in a small smile as he caught Sirius looking at him. Sirius, smiling back, took another sip from his bottle and felt as though contentment was sliding down his throat alongside the beer. His friends were here on this peaceful day, Remus was back for ages, no doubt long enough to get his plans for university underway. And even though the fight with Voldemort wasn’t letting up, and people outside this safe little bubble were still in danger, this day had been like a holiday from all of it.  

If only every day could be like this – perhaps without the bolshy soon-to-be muggle brother-in-law – then the world would actually be perfect.


	21. Part 6: III

* * *

_Thanks once again to SableUnstable for her good work on this one, and for figuring out the evil em-dash vs. en-dash bollocks, Sable:1 Google Docs: 0_

* * *

It was a week before James and Lily surfaced from their newlywed bed. They both looked a little gaunt, as though with all the shagging they'd forgotten to eat. Dumbledore had decided that James was allowed back on full duty, but that both he and Lily should be taking polyjuice whenever they were in public – the deaths of the senior Potters had left no questions where he was concerned. Regulus's tip off in the alley outside Sirius's flat back on New Year's Day seemed to be true. Voldemort was clearly after something only the Potter family could provide him with, something that was possibly kept in the Potter family vault.

The Death Eaters had been hunting James's parents even then, back in January, but had too much trouble trying to control Mr and Mrs Potter. They hadn't been able to force them to return to England, so James became their target. It all made sense; or Dumbledore thought so anyway. He had spoken openly to James and Sirius for once, most likely because they'd both been on duty when he'd arrived at Headquarters in the middle of the night.

The sun was just coming up as James and Sirius sat on the porch at Pinfold, sharing a cigarette and re-hashing Dumbledore's words for the tenth time since he'd left a few hours before.

"At least I'm allowed back on full duty now," James said. "Polyjuice is better than house arrest."

"I'll say," Sirius agreed, and then added happily, "hey, you'll be able to come with me and Caradoc next week, we've got a solid lead on Dolohov's replacement."

"Brilliant," James grinned.

It was actually less of a lead and more like a sure thing – after they'd gotten Dolohov arrested in March for procuring non-tradables, all had been quiet. But then, the week before James had returned from Australia, they'd gotten reports of renewed Death Eater activity at Scale and Claw in Manchester.

"I can't believe they're fool enough to keep operating out of the same pub," Sirius said for what felt like the hundredth time. It just seemed too easy to him. However, he'd realised recently that he was becoming quite paranoid; doubting people, second guessing his own decisions. That was Voldemort's strongest weapon, and Sirius wasn't going to let it get to him.

"That does seem a bit brazen," James agreed, "I thought Voldemort was supposed to be clever?"

"Well, that's the thing," Sirius said, trying to convince himself as well as James. "Docy reckons these chaps aren't under instruction from their boss; he thinks Dolohov had a sideline going. Being a Death Eater must not pay very well." James made a sarcastically sympathetic face at the mention of hard-up henchmen, and Sirius grinned as he continued. "But someone has taken over his racket while he's taking his little holiday with the dementors."

"His trial's next week, isn't it?" James asked. " I heard Dumbledore and Moody talking about it. Moody was complaining that we didn't get more evidence on him."

"Never happy, that one," Sirius muttered. There were actually a number of Death Eater trials the following week; the Ministry had finally gotten their ludicrous amount of arrest paperwork under control, and all the Death Eaters that had been bought in that year were finally going to trial.

"I see his point though," James went on, " if Dolohov is only sentenced to Azkaban for selling non-tradables, he'll get six months. But he's a fucking maniac, he was at Edgars apparently. He should get life for killing those little girls."

_He should,_ Sirius thought. The haunting image of Edgar Bones's daughters lying in the grass, their eyes blank and staring, presented itself in his mind once more, and dispiritedly, Sirius wondered if he'd ever be free from it. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"At least he's out of the picture for now, and this blonde bird that's taken over his trade, she's been seen at a few Death Eater residences. So even if she's not one of them yet, she will be. Getting her locked up, and whoever is with her, that's a public service."

* * *

The Order had actually had a pretty good summer so far. The Death Eaters were moving into the open more often, and even though that meant more danger to the muggles, it also made it easier to corner them. Moody had recruited several more Aurors to the Order that year, something that helped make the arresting and Azkabaning of Death Eaters much more straightforward; the very reason the Ministry was able to catch up on their ridiculous paperwork. There were enough Aurors working for the Order to have one tag along on most missions, which meant they could arrest on the spot, something the Order didn't have the power to do.

Ironically, it was Moody who grumbled the most about the new efficient system, because until then he'd been the one to write up every Death Eater the Order cornered. His record for most arrests was now being threatened by the young recruits he'd brought in; Kingsley Shacklebolt especially, a tall, dark, and mostly silent man. Shacklebolt was earning himself quite an impressive reputation for his intimidating, no-fuss style.

Shacklebolt was definitely Sirius's favourite Auror chaperone. Some of the others tended to cringe at the Order's sometimes unorthodox methods, but Shacklebolt was happy to sit back and watch, smoothly stepping in at the crucial moment to legally bind and haul off whoever they had managed to catch.

* * *

It was with a much lighter heart than usual that Sirius returned home to his flat after nightwatch with James. They really seemed to be making progress against the Death Eaters now; it was almost possible for him to see a point in the future when this war might even be over. He climbed the stairs, thinking about what life might be like if that happened. Remus would be going to muggle university, and he, himself, would have to get a job; Alphard's gold wouldn't actually last his whole life, after all. Sirius had never really thought about a career before, but his _N.E.W.T_ s were good, so he'd find something, he supposed.

Remus was sitting at the kitchen table when Sirius let himself inside. There was a pot of tea before him, and a plate bearing half a piece of toast sat next to it. He was reading from a creased sheet of parchment with a smile on his face – a smile that broadened as he looked up to greet Sirius.

"Morning," he chirped brightly, "grab a cup, the tea's still hot. How was last night?"

"Really good," Sirius replied happily. Remus's good mood was infectious. "James is officially allowed out again, with polyjuice. He's chuffed."

"It's about time," Remus said as Sirius took his seat at the table and poured himself a cup of tea. "Does that mean you two are officially partners again?"

"I think so," Sirius nodded, and then grinned as he continued, "Moody will be shitty, having to fiddle with his precious roster. I wonder if that means you'll get Caradoc now?"

"Maybe," Remus mused. "Or Emmeline? It's not like I'm permanent though, what with the moon and visits to the mountains starting again in Autumn."

"I guess," Sirius said, feeling a pang of guilt at the mention of the moon. Thanks to his Order duties, he'd been unable to accompany Remus to the Shrieking Shack for his last few transformations. But with the assistance of Caradoc's aconite, Remus didn't seem to be having too bad a time; not like when they'd been in school anyway.

Looking to dispel the uncomfortable guilt and return to happier things, Sirius nodded at the parchment Remus had been reading. "Is that from your lot?" he asked.

"It is," Remus said, his eyes dropping to the page once more. "Quinn wants me to come out for the night next week. He's turning fifteen, they're having a little party."

"Cool," Sirius said; it seemed so important to celebrate whenever they got the chance these days. He noticed the slightly dirty envelope the letter had arrived in lying next to Remus's plate. A small square postage stamp was stuck to the top corner, partially obscured by the Royal Mail's smudged black ink. "Hey," he added as a thought occurred to him, "how does he post those letters to you? I thought muggles had to pay for stamps."

Remus shot him an impressed look; Sirius was famously useless at understanding the finer points of muggle life. "I gave him a whole lot a while ago," Remus explained, "he wanted to try writing to his parents, but of course he has no return address. He's so sure they would want to hear from him…" he trailed off, his mouth turning down.

"But I thought they let Greyback take him?" Sirius asked, trying to remember what Remus had told him about Quinn's background. "Why would they want-"

"I don't know," Remus sighed, folding up the letter and slotting it back into the envelope. "He was just a kid, he's convinced Greyback stole him."

"So what night is it?" Sirius asked, returning to the original topic and hoping he was on duty so he wouldn't be left trying to entertain himself while Remus was off having fun in the woods.

"Thursday." Remus looked uncertain for second, like he was steeling himself for something. His voice was rather too casual when he continued, as if he was nervous. "Do you want to come? You don't have to," he added quickly, "not if you don't want to, but it'll be fun, and they'd like to meet you."

"Er, sure," Sirius said at once, quite surprised but pleased to be asked. He paused then, hesitant for a moment. "Do they know? About us, I mean?"

"Yeah," Remus nodded, "I might have talked about you a bit too much." His cheeks had suddenly gone rather pink, and Sirius couldn't help but smile at the sight. "Rhiannon clicked first, the boys figured it out after a while. It doesn't seem to bother them."

"A werewolf birthday party," Sirius said slowly, his smile growing wider. "Sounds like an adventure."

* * *

Unfortunately it turned out that Remus had to depart for the wolves alone. Sirius, Caradoc and a polyjuiced James instead found themselves on the roof of Scale and Claw in Manchester, a cool night breeze lifting their hair, on the alert for any sign of the woman who had taken over Dolohov's non-tradable ring.

Sirius had really wanted to go with Remus, but technically he wasn't even allowed to _know_ about the wolves or Remus's mission with them, so he could hardly ask Moody to get someone to fill his spot tonight. Remus hadn't even told the old Auror he was going to see them. It was a complete secret.

He had a very strong sense of deja vu as he crouched behind the pub's raised facade; this was where they'd hidden while observing Dolohov back in February. At least tonight the wind wasn't as cold. Scale and Claw was not magically hidden like many wizarding pubs, but instead was set at the end of a long alley that wound its way between rundown council flats. The buildings were brick and concrete, with the utilitarian style of the late nineteen-fifties. From where he crouched Sirius could see plastic bags and fast food wrappings littering the alley, gathering in the corners whenever the alley's meandering path changed course.

He was staring rather blankly at one of these piles of rubbish, his mind far away with Remus in the Welsh mountains, when an unwelcome noise drew him back to the present. There were approaching footsteps on the roof behind him. James and Caradoc must have heard them too, because almost as one they all turned, their wands drawn instantly.

Four men were coming toward them, walking carefully across the slightly sloping tiles of the roof. Sirius glanced at Caradoc with slight trepidation; they had been expecting an Auror to join them before ten pm, but four? Then, as they came a little closer, Sirius recognised three of them; Kingsley Shacklebolt, tall and imposing in his Auror uniform, and the two to his left, copper haired and stocky – the Prewett brothers. On Kingsley's right another Auror walked, one that Sirius had seen at Pinfold occasionally but had never actually spoken to.

"Who called the calvary?" Caradoc asked, getting to his feet and striding over to greet the newcomers enthusiastically. The Prewetts both clapped him on the shoulder, matching grins on their faces. They were close to Caradoc's age, and Sirius knew they had been friends for a while, possibly even since Hogwarts.

But it was the Auror Sirius didn't know who spoke first. "We've had some disturbing news," he said in lieu of greeting. He looked a bit older than the others, probably in his early thirties, and his expression was grim. "The convoy that was transporting the Death Eaters who were sentenced today was intercepted. They never even reached Azkaban."

" _What_?" Caradoc spluttered as James and Sirius shared a silent look of dread. The features on James's polyjuiced face might have been foreign, but his aghast expression was undeniably familiar to Sirius. "How is that even possible?" Caradoc continued, completely flummoxed. "Why weren't they portkeyed out there like normal?"

"We received last minute information there was a leak in the department, and that somehow the portkey had been tampered with, so they were taken by barge. We had Unspeakables put protective enchantments on every inch of it; Rookwood still can't figure out why they failed. It's a disaster."

Caradoc looked from the two Aurors to the Prewetts, as though hoping they were going to burst out laughing and say "gotcha!" They didn't. "How many escaped?" he asked cautiously.

"Ten," replied the Auror. The word came out clipped, forced through clenched teeth. The man was clearly furious.

"Ten!" James burst out as Sirius and Caradoc both groaned in disappointment. All their hard work, all the risks they'd taken, all for naught. "Merlin," he continued, sounding as annoyed as Sirius felt, "that's more than the Order managed to capture in the last six months!"

"And who are you?" the Auror asked indignantly, looking James up and down, obviously displeased by his disrespectful attitude. The Aurors all seemed to think a lot of themselves, Sirius had noticed.

"James Potter," James replied, lifting his chin a fraction. "Under polyjuice. I don't believe we've met."

"Frank Longbottom," the Auror said, his derision fading slightly. James and Sirius both had a pretty good reputation for being valuable and reliable Order members. Putting this together, Longbottom's expression lost its aggravated edge. He turned his eyes on Sirius. "You're Black?"

"Yes," Sirius nodded. "And should we really be standing around chatting? We're supposed to be keeping an eye out for these dealers."

"Good point, Sirius," Caradoc said, starting back toward the place they had been crouched when the others had arrived.

"No, we've come to collect you," Longbottom said brusquely, "there is an emergency meeting. The Auror office has requested the attendance of all members of the Order of the Phoenix, we need to get the escapees rounded up."

"Hey," James interrupted, peering over the edge again. "Apparition, just down there." He pointed and both Caradoc and Sirius went to look. A familiar tall blonde woman in long dark robes had appeared and was looking around furtively.

"That's her," Caradoc said, then frowned as he muttered, "why doesn't she wear her hood up? That hair makes her so recognisable."

There were another two quiet pops down in the alley, and the resulting men were easily discernible as Dolohov's enforcers; Gibbon and a weedy bloke with a cruel scowling face whose name the Order were yet to learn. Neither of them wore their hoods either.

_That's odd,_ Sirius thought, _are the Death Eaters getting complacent?_

Caradoc watched them intently for a moment before he spoke over his shoulder to Longbottom. "Seems foolish to let them go. Give us five minutes?"

Longbottom looked impatient but nodded his consent, and Caradoc didn't hesitate for a second. "I'll take Blondie; Sirius you take Gibbon; Potter, you get the other one. Stunners on three; one, two, three!"

" _Stupefy!_ " they all said firmly, and the jets of red light that left their wands streaked down from the roof, through the dark night and hit their targets, all three dropping in an instant.

It was then that everything went wrong.

There was a shout from down in the alley. A deep gruff voice called out, "they're on the roof!" and the brick walls of the alley began to undulate, distorting and shifting. Sirius blinked his eyes, trying to focus, panicking for a second that something was wrong with his vision until he realised with horror that it wasn't the walls themselves moving, but a line-up of disillusioned wizards. It was impossible to count how many had been hidden, waiting for the Order to reveal themselves.

This was an ambush.

Cracks of disapparition echoed along the alley, and then, frighteningly, the sound of multiple apparitions close at hand, on all sides. It was like the air was made of wavy heat-haze in every direction as the disillusioned Death Eaters appeared around them. Then a murmur nearby, a flash of neon pink, and the air thickened, dense and immovable. The dreaded Death Eater anti-disap had been cast.

"Defensive circle!" Longbottom ordered. In unison, both he and Shacklebolt bellowed, " _Protego!"_

The force of their spell shook the tiles beneath Sirius's feet as he ran up the slope of the roof to join the ring of fighters. A powerful translucent forcefield expanded around them, falling heavily like a great protective dome. Longbottom spoke quickly; it was clear he'd taken charge. "Depending on what Death Eaters are here, the shield should give us a few minutes at least. But this was obviously a trap, they will be prepared."

Sirius's attention was suddenly taken by a flare of orange light that hit the shield charm right in front of his face. But Longbottom was undeterred. He didn't even blink, just churned out his orders with impressive speed.

"Gid, Fab, I want sweeping stunners from you the moment this falls. Black, Dearborn, and Potter; disarming at twelve, four, and eight, rapid fire, I'll call when you need to change direction. Kingsley, _Finite Incantatem_ , a quick as you can, we need to see who we're aiming at, then join in with the stunners, I'm going to try and break the anti-disap." He drew a deep breath and eyeballed them all, making sure they understood. "Okay, in position."

Sirius moved to stand beside Fabian. James and Caradoc shuffled to different spots too, so they were spaced evenly around, their backs to the middle of the circle, their wands held ready. Kingsley was on Sirius's right, with James standing next to him, then Gideon and Longbottom. Caradoc stood on Fabian's other side.

Sirius glanced at Kingsley; his wand was still pointed skyward, holding the shield charm in place. There was sweat beading across the dark skin of his forehead, and he closed his eyes to concentrate as unfriendly curses began to bombard the shield in earnest.

His blood racing, Sirius moved from foot to foot, trying to find the sturdiest places to stand on the uneven roof. _Expelliarmus,_ he thought; it seemed strange to be preparing to fight using a defensive spell rather than an offensive one, but he wasn't going to question Longbottom. The man did this for a living, and was so unflustered that Sirius couldn't help but trust he knew what he was doing.

"Drop it, Shacklebolt," Longbottom commanded. The shield fell, and then... then it was chaos.

Sirius was just casting his second disarming charm when the Death Eaters flickered into sight. Kingsley's spell had worked, the disillusionment charm had been lifted: they could see their targets now. Sirius heard the clatter of wands hitting tiles, but there were lots of Death Eaters, black robed and deadly. He couldn't count them because they didn't stand still and aim; they dodged, sending spells from unpredictable angles.

He had just swayed sharply to one side to avoid a jet of green heading for his midriff when Fabian shouted at him, "Black! Down!" and then shoved him hard in the shoulder. More green zinged past his ear a split second later, right where his head had been. Fabian had just saved his life.

" _Expelliarmus!"_ Sirius cast again and again. The fight was noisy, grunts of pain and jeers; the cracking of tiles; the thuds of heavy feet; the raised voices of the fighters as they cast their spells. But then Sirius heard Longbottoms voice, loud and sure cutting through the tumult. "Rotate!"

He took several steps to his right; the structured defensive fighting routine had been taught to them when they had first joined the Order, for occasions just like this when they had to work side-by-side with the much more formally trained Aurors. Unfortunately it didn't seem to be helping much tonight, mainly because there were a frightening number of green jets shooting through the air around him. Sirius was still sending off as many disarming charms as he could manage, until he collided with Fabian.

Fabian, who'd fallen to his knees, his wand limp at his side, his left hand clawed at his chest. He collapsed, face first onto the tiles of the roof.

Then Caradoc was there, shoulder to shoulder with Sirius, his face set, his wand extended, casting a shield charm so strong it was nearly opaque. "There are too many," he said quickly. "Attack."

Sirius didn't need to be told twice; he was itching to fight his way. He stepped out from behind Caradoc's shield with a spell already on his lips.

" _Incarcerous!_ " he yelled, flicking his wand and sending black ropes whipping through the air to wind around a big Death Eater to his right, who toppled and fell, collecting two others as he went down. Caradoc was in top form; the light from the magic leaving his wand was an almost unending stream. Three Death Eaters fell in the space of a few minutes, and Sirius felt the familiar rush of adrenaline – the good kind. They could get out of this, they might not be captured. Or killed.

Behind him, Sirius could hear James's real voice shouting, " _Deiectio!"_ and he whipped around in time to see the Death Eater nearest James clutching his stomach as if in dire need of the loo. The quickest of grins flitted over Sirius's face; only James would have the nerve to use the diarrhea hex when dueling for his life. Then with a nasty shock, Sirius abruptly realised why James's voice had made him look around – the polyjuice potion had worn off.

James stood there, incapacitating his opponents in the most embarrassing way, with his wanted face visible to any Death Eater that cared to see – this disturbed Sirius more than killing curses. More than the unknown fate of Fabian who still lay spread-eagled at Sirius's feet.

Suddenly a voice from above Longbottom bellowed, "I've done it! GO! Disapparate!"

James looked back over his shoulder to find Sirius, relief visible in his face when he saw him still standing, then turned on the spot and was gone. Caradoc stooped to grab Fabian and then yelled desperately from his half crouch, "Sirius, what are you waiting for? _Go!_ "

He did as he was told, turning into the suffocating pressure of apparition.

* * *

The solitary street lamp at Pinfold's gate was a welcome sight. However, Sirius was reminded instantly of the last time he'd landed here after a narrow escape. James was already there, and he grabbed Sirius the moment he appeared, crushing him in a tight hug.

"Fucking hell!" he breathed as he released Sirius, his eyes still wide with shock. "What on earth? That was insane! How did they know we'd be there?"

"I don't know," Sirius said, looking around as Caradoc and the prone Fabian appeared, then Kingsley. Finally, after a minute that felt like an hour, Longbottom popped into existence, blood in a gruesome diagonal stripe across the front of his robes.

"Gideon," he panted, almost at once, "they got him."

It was the first time Longbottom had sounded shaken all evening. He wiped pointlessly at the blood splashed across his front. "Severing charm," he added. "Poor Gid, at least it was quick."

* * *

After a depressing debrief with Alastor Moody, Sirius fled Headquarters as quickly as he could. Many of the other Order members all seemed to want to hang around after something like this had happened, but Sirius craved solitude these days. He found it difficult to sit about listening to the story being told again and again. He just wanted to be alone, so he could pretend it hadn't happened.

Fabian had still been unconscious when he'd left. Judging by Dorcas's grim expression as she'd looked him over, his prognosis wasn't good.

Sirius sat on his sofa into the wee hours, sort of grateful that Remus wasn't there, because it meant he didn't have to explain what had happened. He didn't have to relive the terror of being surrounded, of wondering if this time, this fight would be his last. He smoked half a deck before he managed to drag himself off to bed, so tired that he seriously considered just sleeping where he was.

* * *

Woken by a loud car horn around midday, Sirius lay still for a moment as the traumatic events from the night before washed over him. Gideon dead, Fabian grievously injured, his own life in serious danger. It was just luck – that's what kept people alive. It could have so easily been him hit by the curse that got Fabian. It wasn't like Sirius was a better dueler; to the Death Eaters he was just as much of a blood-traitor as the pureblooded Fabian, and therefore an inviting target. It all came down to luck in the end.

Raised voices from outside the window intruded on this depressing epiphany, and deciding that muggle drama would be a nice distraction from his own maudlin thoughts, Sirius threw the covers off himself and stumbled across the room to have a look. His body ached in odd places from the fight the night before; his left shoulder twinged as he raised his arm to tug the curtain open.

He peered out the window in his bedroom to see a besuited man in the car park below, gesticulating angrily at a balding bloke in high-vis gear. Sirius's shoulder protested again as he pushed the window open so he could get a better view. Leaning out over the sill, he could see the rubbish truck that always came on Friday morning to empty the skips that lived in the car park, and a dark sleek car with a sizable ding in its back bumper. Clearly this was the cause of the suited man's anger. The dent in his car looked to be courtesy of the bin man's rubbish truck.

Sighing, Sirius retrieved his wand from beneath his pillow and went back to the window. The bin man was looking rather distressed by this point, obviously wanting to get on with his day. Sirius sent a surreptitious " _Reparo"_ down from the window, so that the bumper dent popped out and the paint repaired itself.

Then, after tucking his wand out of sight, he yelled, "Oi! Would you shut up down there!" When the man in the suit looked up furiously, Sirius continued, "there's barely a scratch on your precious car! Bugger off already!"

The man was visibly confused as he stalked over to his car, inspecting the bumper. Sirius saw the bin man take the chance to hoist himself back up into his truck's high cab, before he rolled down the window and grouched, "next time look where you're reversing; I'm pretty hard to miss!"

Sirius thought he had a point. The truck was bright orange, with flashing lights on every available surface. As he shut his bedroom window, he wondered why anyone would drive a car in the first place – motorbikes were so much better. His own lived at Headquarters these days; it was much safer in the little shed there than it was hidden in the alley he used for apparition.

* * *

Remus was due back before dark, and Sirius whiled away the afternoon with his record collection, sorting through the covers and fixing knicks and dog-eared corners with his wand. He was so engrossed in his task – the corner of his oldest favourite, Something Else by the Kinks, was proving rather difficult to straighten – that he got quite a fright when an owl he didn't recognise tapped sharply on the sitting room window.

Wondering if it was from Remus, he got to his feet. Perhaps he'd decided to stay another night? But it was unusual for him to contact Sirius via magical methods while he was away. The Black Mountains were steeped in old magic from the celtic druids, things like apparition and patronuses didn't work up there. Sirius supposed that owl's might, but where would Remus have even gotten an owl from?

He pushed the wooden frame of the window up and the owl hopped inside, thrusting its leg out and turning its face away, as though it didn't wish to even look at Sirius. He took the rolled up note attached to its leg and it spread its wings almost at once, soaring out over the busy road full of rush hour traffic.

Sirius unfurled the scroll absently, scowling after the rude bird, now only a dot in the distance. However, when he glanced down at the note, the bird, the noisy traffic, even the cool evening air blowing in the window all seemed to vanish. There was nothing except the horrible message held in his now shaking hands.

_If you know anyone currently residing in the Black Mountains, they are in danger._ _Greyback's werewolf pack have been joined by two wizards who specialise in dismantling protective enchantments. They are close._

_Act fast. Please._

* * *

**_**_** ~ **_End of Part Six_** ~ _ ******_

* * *

_Thanks for all the comments, I will get there soon I promise. I also apologise for the cliffy, the next three chapter part won't be far away._

_George xx_


	22. Part 6: IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: semi-graphic injuries (but it's no exploding Fenwick, so if you could handle that, this chapter will be fine.) Also, I'm NOT warning for a major character death. Remember that.  
> Thanks to SableUnstable for using up her whole evening to get this beta'd for me. What a trooper.

 

 

* * *

Previously….

_If you know anyone currently residing in the Black Mountains they are in danger. Greyback's werewolf pack have been joined by two wizards who specialise in dismantling protective enchantments._

_Act fast. Please._

* * *

Sirius squeezed his eyes shut, praying as he did so that the writing on the parchment would have changed when he opened them. It hadn't. Still there in that sort-of-familiar cursive, were words that made his insides turn to ice. His heart wasn't racing, it was like it had vanished from his chest completely, vacating the cavity to make room for a freezing, paralytic tidal wave of fear.

 _I need to tell Caradoc_ , was the first coherent thought he had. Caradoc knew where to find Remus, and he'd know what to do about this. Sirius cursed the fact that he wasn't able to reach Remus with a Patronus; something to do with the location, ' _too much old magic',_ Remus had said. He pulled his wand from his pocket and murmured, " _Patronum Nuntius,"_ in a raspy voice. His throat seemed to be constricted.

' _Caradoc,'_ he thought as silver vapour issued from his wand, pooling on the floor in front of him, forming paws and haunches, then tail and chest. ' _I just got a warning that Remus is in danger. The Death Eaters and Greyback have found the magical boundary Remus set up for the camp, I don't think we have much time.'_ The silver mist swirled into muzzle and pricked up ears; the ghostly dog's eyes were alert, as though it knew how important this message was.

"Take it to Caradoc Dearborn," he said. His voice was still husky, his throat still tight. His Patronus gave a reassuring yip and then pelted at top speed through the wall out in search of Caradoc.

Sirius looked back at the letter as he waited. Who had sent it? He did have one idea, but it seemed unlikely. There was far too much personal risk involved in writing a warning like this for the only candidate that came to mind.

Before he had even had time to decide what he should do now – beyond locating his boots, because he was definitely going out to find Remus himself in the next ten minutes, whether Caradoc had replied or not – a translucent silver lemur came scurrying through the closed window. It stood on its hind legs, its too-large eyes blinking rapidly, its head tilted to one side.

" _Sirius,"_ it spoke in Caradoc's welsh-tinged accent, made thicker than usual by anxiety. " _I'm on my way to Dumbledore this minute, I'll be at yours in fifteen."_

 _Thank goodness for Caradoc,_ Sirius thought as he dashed about his flat looking for suitable outdoor clothes, then his wand, which he had somehow misplaced even though he'd just used it to send the Patronus. He found it next to his boots on the sofa and sat down to pull them on. The sight of his wand lying on the sofa cushion made an unwelcome realisation pop into his head.

_They didn't have wands._

The wolves Remus was with, none of them had wands. Remus was the only one. If Sirius and Caradoc were unable to warn them in time, Remus would have to fight the Death Eaters.

Just him. Alone.

Sirius's boot slipped from his hand, landing with a thud on the floor. He thought he might throw up. Horrible images were flashing through his head; Remus standing in front of a cowering group of scruffy people, his arms thrown out to shield them, spells and hulking bodies closing in on him, surrounding them, dispatching each helpless werewolf with ease. Remus stepping forward, trying to stop them, but failing, out-numbered, bleeding, falling to his knees...

 _Breathe,_ Sirius told himself as he began to feel lightheaded, frozen in fear. His lungs had forgotten how to operate properly. _Breathe._ Just then an urgent knock rattled his front door, dragging him back from the edge of hyperventilation. He crossed the room clumsily, with only one unlaced boot on, and flung the door wide, no thought of security entering his head. There just wasn't room for it right then.

Caradoc stood on the threshold looking less stressed than Sirius felt, but not by much. He was pale, his eyes wider than usual, and had definitely dressed for a rough trek through the woods. He'd donned muggle tramping gear from head to toe, a raincoat covered in zips and little toggles, and well worn boots that looked like they could kick a door in quite easily. There was a big backpack slung over his shoulder.

"I went straight to Dumbledore," he said the moment Sirius opened the door. "He wouldn't send anyone." The frustration in Caradoc's voice stopped Sirius from interrupting with his own angry disbelief. Dumbledore had gotten Remus involved with these people, surely it was his responsibility to help him now? "He said he didn't want to risk making things worse," Caradoc continued furiously. "If the Death Eaters find out Remus's lot are in league with the Order, they'll kill them on the spot. He thinks Greyback will want them all to rejoin him. Not kill them."

"But he can't know that!" Sirius snapped tersely. He felt like shouting, like going to Dumbledore himself and shaking the old man until he agreed to help, but there wasn't time for that. He dragged his hands through his hair in an effort to use up some of the energy that was rocketing around inside him. "Fuck! Okay, so we're going now?" He met Caradoc's eyes, hoping to see the same determination reflected there. He was not disappointed. "You know where to find them?"

"Not exactly," Caradoc hedged, "but I'll be able to track them. We'll have to walk in, the Black Mountains are still layered in ancient druid magic, so no apparition." He dropped his rucksack and unzipped it, pulling out a pair of hiking boots. "Chuck these on," he said, eyeing Sirius's mismatched feet, "and this, too." He threw a fancy looking muggle parka in the other man's direction, similar to the one he wore himself. "Come on, it's tipping down in the mountains."

Sirius didn't need to be told twice. He kicked his loose boot off so quickly, it flew across the floor and hit the wall, leaving a curved dent in the plaster from the heavy reinforced toe, then pulled the more suitable boots on, laced them tight and tugged the parka over his head. "Does Dumbledore know you've come to get me?" he asked as he emerged, shaking his shaggy hair out of his face.

"Dumbledore doesn't even know I'm going," Caradoc said, his tense expression becoming less so as he watched Sirius push stubborn strands of hair away from his eyes with agitated hands. "He can sit on his thumbs if he wants, but there's no fucking way I'm leaving Remus alone to deal with this."

Gratitude like he'd never known swelled in Sirius's chest. He and Caradoc would find them; they would help. Then an idea struck. "James!" he said eagerly, "we need to take as many people with us as possible! What if Greyback's whole pack is there?"

"Will he come?" Caradoc asked doubtfully. "It will be dangerous, Sirius."

But Sirius was already pulling his two way mirror from his pocket. Of course James would come _._ "James Potter," he said, surprised by how calm his voice sounded when his heart was pounding so hard it was sure to break through his ribs at any moment.

His best friend's face appeared in the mirror within seconds. He was flushed, his eyes glassy behind his specs. "Paddy!" James cheered. "Speak of the devil, Pete was just asking where you were."

"James, listen-" Sirius paused as he eyed his mate, disappointment hitting him hard. "Are you drunk?"

"Possibly," James nodded solemnly. "I'm at Headquarters, we've been seeing the Prewetts off in style. Podmore and Hagrid are here, and Vance, Marlene and Dorcas too, you should come over!"

"James!" Sirius tried again, trying to capture the other man's veering attention. "Look, I need to talk to you. It's Moony, he's in trouble!"

But James clearly wasn't listening; there was a chorus of loud singing in the background and he'd looked away from the mirror again. "Wormtail!" he said loudly, "Come tell Padfoot he needs to come over!"

Sirius's growl was frustrated as Peter's round face appeared. "No, _James_ , listen!"

"Come round, Pads," Peter said cheerfully. "There's food and heaps of booze, and Hagrid is telling stories about Gideon and Fabian at school, they sound almost worse than us!"

"Pete!" Sirius interrupted him, " _listen_ , Remus is in trouble, he was away last night, they might have been found!"

"Remus was away?" Peter said, his voice going weirdly high-pitched. "He told us he wasn't going back for months!"

"He just went for the night," Sirius explained quickly, "Pete, we think they found them, Greyback, and-"

But Peter was stuttering, looking like he'd understood in an instant, quick on the uptake for once in his life. "Remus was there?" he moaned, sounding horrified. "They were found? Merlin, Padfoot!" He broke off, looking away from the mirror, shouting into the noisy room. "James! _JAMES!_ Get here!"

Then the mirror was just a blur of jumping images; the ceiling of the parlor at Headquarters, the greymarl of Peter's sweater, the sparse stubble of the underside of Peter's chin. Abruptly the noise stopped and Sirius could hear Peter clearly.

"James, Remus is in trouble, we need to go and help," he said sternly, the mirror showing a closeup view of the palm of his hand and the white cupboards of the kitchen behind it. Pete had obviously dragged James across the hall to be able to talk to him without distractions. After a moment, Peter's worried face popped back up in Sirius's mirror. "Where should we meet you?"

"At mine," Sirius said. "Right fucking _now_!"

* * *

The ten minutes it would have taken for Peter to herd a drunken James out of Headquarters and down the long drive so they could apparate passed excruciatingly slowly for Sirius. Caradoc had instructed him to grab a change of clothes and any medi-gear he might have (which turned out to be painkilling potion and bandages found in box on Remus's side of the bed), and they'd left the flat to wait in the alley for James and Pete to arrive.

When finally there was a pop of apparition in the dark cobbled alleyway, Sirius could barely speak. His nerves and worry had begun to feel a lot more like rage as the seconds ticked by.

"About time," Caradoc said by way of greeting; to which James replied by puking his guts out. Splattering the cobblestones and staggering, he held on to Peter to stay upright.

"I told you I couldn't apparate, Pete," Prongs groaned, wiping his mouth. "I'm sorry, Padfoot," he said, standing upright and fixing blurry eyes on Sirius. "Where's Moony? Are we going now?"

"You're not going anywhere," Caradoc said shortly, turning away from him in annoyance. "This is waste of time, Sirius, he'll just hold us up. Have you been drinking, too?" he shot at Peter.

"N-not much," Peter faltered, "I'll come, I'll help, just tell me what to do."

"Take him home," Caradoc said dismissively; it was clear that he didn't think Pete was up to the task of running through the woods and possibly having to fight off werewolves. Sirius had a momentary urge to defend him, but unfortunately Caradoc's assessment was probably correct. "We have to go now, we're running out of time."

"What about Lily?" Peter said, determined to help. "She's at home, right, Prongs? We could send her to meet you." James nodded, still looking woozy, his eyes unfocused.

Sirius thought of the times he'd seen Lily fight, red hair flying, spells cutting the air with precision and speed. "Yes," he answered, "send her… where, Caradoc? Where will we apparate to?"

"South end of the village of Hay-on-Wye, corner of St Mary's and Brecon Road," Caradoc quickly rattled off. "We'll meet her there in fifteen minutes."

"Right." Peter nodded, then grasped James's elbow and turned sharply on the spot, disapparating with a crack.

* * *

The village of Hay-on-Wye was wet and deserted. The rain was so persistent that they got drenched during the short dash between the unsheltered spot they appeared in, and the megre cover of a doorway belonging to a newsagents. Caradoc dried them both with a quick wave of his wand, and they stood quietly, observing the street. From there, Sirius could see narrow lanes between the old buildings, all dark and completely devoid of residents; no surprise, really, considering the downpour. It still felt a bit creepy, though.

Creepy enough that the sound of Lily's apparition startled Sirius so badly, he actually grabbed Caradoc's forearm in surprise.

"Easy there," Caradoc said. "You need to focus, you'll be no help in the mountains if you're this jumpy."

"Sure thing," Sirius muttered, leaning back into the doorway to stay dry. "I'll just have my panic attack at a more convenient time, shall I? After we've dueled a hoard of angry werewolves and their Death Eater buddies?"

"Sounds good," Caradoc said, before he gripped Sirius's shoulder briefly and said in a bracing tone, "look, we don't know anything yet. Rhiannon has gotten away from Greyback before, and this time she has a wizard on her side. We're going to find them."

"Hey," Lily said, approaching cautiously. She wore a long raincoat with a hood that was a bit too large; it hung down over her forehead and she had to keep her head tilted up to see out. "Peter sent me. It's not true, is it? Remus captured by Greyback?"

"Well, let's hope not," Caradoc said, turning to face her and budging up so she could squeeze into their dry space. "Sirius got a cryptic message about half an hour ago, warning that anyone living in the Black Mountains was in danger. Dumbledore wouldn't send anyone, but I can't let that lie, so we're going find them and get them out of there."

Lily nodded seriously and looked at Sirius. "I'm sorry about James. He's already feeling wretched that he can't come."

"It's fine," Sirius said automatically, even though it wasn't – James always stood beside him. Now Sirius was heading off into real danger without him. But Lily was just as magically able; if he couldn't have James, Lily would certainly do. "You're just as quick with a wand, Lily," he assured her. "Perfect replacement."

"Okay," Caradoc interrupted their conversation impatiently, looking at Lily. "The Black Mountains are full of old druid magic, we won't be able to apparate directly to where their camp is. Honestly, I don't think they'll still be there anyway, they would have got out as soon as their wards warned them enemies were approaching. Remus said he picked that spot because of its natural protection against apparition, which is good because the Death Eaters will have to hunt them on foot, but also bad because Remus and the others will have to escape without the use of side-along disapparition. And," he added, sounding tired for the first time, "we're already behind and can't use apparition to catch up. So we'll go as close as we can and then walk in."

* * *

The party of three appeared next to an ancient stone wall thick with moss and crumbling in places. It marked the division between farmer's land and proper forest, the ground on which they stood growing long grass that reached Sirius's knees, swaying and twitching in the constant rain falling from above. On the other side of the wall, the forest began in earnest; twisted trunks and low growing ferns stretched as far as Sirius could see in the dark, their green almost luminescent in the gloom.

"This is the druid's line," Caradoc said, barely pausing to regain his breath – he was already vaulting himself over the wall with a sturdily placed hand, Sirius and Lily hurrying to follow him. Their boots hit the undergrowth noisily, the rain not so heavy in there. The towering evergreens prevented it from reaching the ground with the same intensity as it had in the village.

"We go this way," he called, already ten metres ahead, striding off through the trees. Sirius and Lily had to jog to catch up, and when they reached him, Caradoc increased his pace, so that they were all running. That actually made Sirius feel better; the task of concentrating on his breathing, of ignoring the way his thighs began to burn as the incline increased, helped him focus. It made him feel like he was doing everything he could to reach Remus in time.

Lily kept up admirably. Sirius hadn't known she was so fit. She'd thrown off her overly-large hood now that they were out of the rain, and her breath came in even little pants beside him, her long ponytail swishing back and forth with each step. Caradoc ran just ahead of them, his big backpack jolting up and down as he jogged along.

After nearly half an hour of constant running, Sirius was beginning to regret every cigarette he'd ever smoked. He felt like there was a knife working its way between his ribs. He groaned when Caradoc suddenly veered off the track and the thick undergrowth forced them to slow down, another fifteen minutes passing before they finally stopped. Caradoc dropped his bag to the ground and turned to look at Sirius and Lily. "It won't be far from here," he said.

"How do you know?" Sirius asked, bent double, his hands braced on his knees as he tried to fill his overtaxed lungs.

"Remus's mark," Caradoc replied, pointing to the wide trunk nearest them. "On the tree there."

Sirius looked over to see a curved symbol carved into the bark at knee height, no bigger than a galleon. Lily was inspecting it as well. "Mischief," she murmured.

"What?" Sirius frowned, not understanding.

"That mark, it's a rune," Lily said. "It translates as mischief or misbehaviour."

"Does it?" Caradoc asked, looking mildly interested. "I didn't know that. I thought he just liked the shape."

"It's definitely a rune," Lily assured them confidently. "So where to now?"

Caradoc was chugging water from a canteen he'd pulled from his bag, and he handed it off to Sirius as he wiped his mouth to answer. "Well, I've seen no sign of other people on this route. Not recently, anyway. Then again, Greyback could have come from another direction." He paused and sniffed the air. "I can smell smoke, what about you?"

Sirius could, now that Caradoc mentioned it. Faint but definitely there. Lily shook her head, however, and Sirius realised it was probably his latent inner canine that detected it, something he and Caradoc shared.

"I think you two should stay here for a bit while I go and have a scout for their camp," Caradoc said. "Remus always puts his mark half a mile west, so I should be able to find it pretty easily from here."

"Then we'll come with you," Sirius said at once, passing the canteen to Lily. "I'm not waiting behind. You could encounter the pack, or need us the moment you get there."

Caradoc gave him a look that said, _why must you be so difficult?_ but sighed softly and agreed. He took the water back from Lily and tied it to the outside of his pack before they set off again. Conscious of their approach, they moved more quietly than before.

Their caution proved unnecessary, however, because within ten minutes, a flickering light could be seen between the trees. The smell of smoke was much stronger there, and it had a strange scent to it, almost like a barbeque. Sirius hoped they weren't about to burst out of the trees only to discover some muggles on a camping trip. Maybe Remus and the others were just cooking their dinner.

But as they drew closer, it became clear that the source of the light was no cooking fire. In a clearing, a massive bonfire blazed, the flames licking high into the air. Beyond it Sirius could see a rope strung between two trees, with little wooden pegs dotted along it, tin buckets and a large dented copper basin strewn about the place. The stench of the smoke was overpowering, and there was still something not quite right about it. Sirius went to take a step further, out of the trees and into the clearing, but Caradoc held him back.

"Those fucking animals," he said, his voice muffled. He'd zipped his jacket right up over his nose, and his eyes were wide and a little bloodshot, staring out at the fire.

" _Oh my god_ ," Lily gasped, "is that-"

The horrified look on her face made Sirius realise he was missing something. He turned back to look at the clearing, Lily hanging onto his arm, murmuring to herself, her breath short.

With a burst of clarity, Sirius suddenly understood what had both of them so worried; the twisted shapes he could see among the flames were not large logs as he had first thought, but bodies, _human_ bodies, piled on top of each other, and set alight. Burning into nothing.

His blank shock of understanding did not last long. Sirius threw Caradoc's restraining hand off him and pulled his other arm from Lily's grip as he charged toward the fire, out into the clearing. The panic in his mind which had been so well controlled as they ran through the woods had returned in full force. His vision became a pinprick of focus, the roaring licking flames filling it as he approached, searching, dreading he would see something he recognised among the smouldering horror. The heat radiating from it was so intense, he couldn't get closer than several yards before the skin on his face and hands began to prickle.

" _Aguamenti!_ " he shouted, casting a gushing stream of water at the fire. He was too far gone to even realise that the charm would be useless; there was rain pouring from the sky and it had no effect on the flames that were engulfing and destroying the poor people piled within their grasp.

The water was still streaming from Sirius's wand when he took a step closer, his boots sinking into the squelching mud that surrounded the bonfire. The earth there had been churned up, no doubt during the fight that had culminated in the atrocity blazing before his eyes. He moved forward another pace, and felt something hard beneath the sole of his boot, something different from the sludge oozing up around his feet. He bent to retrieve it, his fingers sinking into glutinous unpleasantness, and pulled a wand from the mud.

The orange flickering light from the fire was bright enough for Sirius to recognise it at once: it was Remus's wand.

The wand began to shake so violently in his hand that it was blurred; he clutched his fingers around it, trying to hold it steady, but found he couldn't. It wasn't until another hand closed around his, warmer and smaller, Lily's voice saying, "is that his?" that Sirius realised it wasn't the wand shaking at all. It was his own hand trembling.

Sirius nodded, unable to speak. _If Remus didn't have his wand… that would mean…_

"Come on!" Caradoc's loud voice called over the rain and the crackling, spitting fire. "We need to search the area, light your wands! Don't give up, Black," he added, coming closer, the light from his wand falling on Sirius's face. "Sirius?" he said, his brisk tone vanishing. He sounded concerned. "What is it?"

Sirius still couldn't speak. He held Remus's wand up for Caradoc to see; he didn't seem to need words to know what the discovery implied.

"It doesn't mean the worst," Caradoc rallied after a moment of silence. "Come on."

Sirius wiped Remus's muddy wand on his jeans and stowed it inside his parka, trying to squash down the blaring voice his his head that kept saying, _he lost his wand, he would've been helpless._

He scanned the ground as he walked away from the fire. There was a cracked bowl, still dirty with food not far away, and a bent fork a pace from that. Had Greyback interrupted Remus's wolves while they were having dinner? A large piece of hessian hung limply to the ground from a pole; ropes threaded through loops on the unattached side of it had been tracked into the mud. It looked like an awning of some kind. Just beyond it was the cave Remus had spoken about, a huge chunk of rock jutted out from the earth, a narrow fissure up the center of it created a narrow, jagged entrance.

Sirius was just about to go inside when Lily's voice rang out across the clearing, "Sirius! I think this is his, too!"

Not being able to make out what she was holding up due to the rain and dark, he crossed the clearing quickly, hoping that it would be some clue that Remus had escaped. When he reached her, Lily offered him what appeared to be a badly singed piece of dark blue knitting, the tube of a sleeve with a cuff and many pulled threads. Then Sirius saw something that made his heart drop. His stomach clenched as he ran his thumb over a scrap of leather dangling by a few stitches from what would have been the sleeve's elbow.

It was Remus's. His favourite blue cardi. The top edge was badly burned, black and crumbling, like it had fallen from its wearer as the rest of the garment burned.

"We need to keep looking," Lily said, heading off in a different direction. Sirius could not summon the energy or the desire to move. He rubbed the wool between his fingers, his mind on the last time he'd seen Remus wearing it. More than a year ago now, the night before Remus had left for the field for the first time. They'd sat on the floor in his bedroom and imagined running off to France to keep themselves safe. Then they'd kissed, and Sirius had been so nervous when it went so much further than that. He'd just been so fucking happy that Remus was there.

Drawing a shaky breath, he willed himself not to fall apart. It wasn't over yet.

He still hadn't moved when Lily called out yet again, her voice coming from the trees at the boundary of the clearing. "I found someone! Come quick, he's hurt!"

Sirius had never moved so fast in his life. His brain refused to absorb the fact that Lily had said 'someone', not 'Remus' as she surely would have done if it was him. He nearly slid over in the mud in his haste to reach her, skidding to a slippery halt next to the curled up figure of a teenage boy, half hidden in the shadow of a fallen tree.

His disappointment that it was not Remus lying there was appeased as he realised the boy was conscious; he would be able to tell them what had happened. Lily was kneeling beside the boy, her hands feeling around his throat, beneath his jaw. There was blood there, dark and smudged up onto his cheek. Caradoc arrived just as the boy moved his arm, groaning with discomfort, his eyes flickering open and then squeezing shut tightly in pain.

"It's okay," Lily said soothingly, "we're here to help, we're Remus's friends. Where do you hurt?"

"My back," the boy whimpered, "one of them- Greyback's- he threw me, I can't move."

Lily pushed the undergrowth he was lying in aside, and Caradoc crouched down to slot his muddy hands under the boy's shoulders to lift him gently, just enough for Lily to see how bad the injury was. But the slightest movement caused the boy to cry out in agony, and Sirius could see why, even with such short glimpse. A branch protruded from the fallen tree trunk he'd landed beside, and he must have hit the ground with massive force because the branch had all but impaled him. A rough knotty limb was embedded in the blood smeared skin right next to his spine.

Sirius had really had enough. The gruesomeness of war was something he'd never prepared for.

Lily was looking at Caradoc with grim eyes, but he ignored her expression, speaking to the boy instead of her. "It's Jackson, isn't it?" he asked. The boy gave the smallest nod. "Listen to me, Lily here is going to run down this mountain as fast as she can and bring back a healer – a real one." Jackson started to shake his head but Caradoc forestalled him. "One who holds no prejudice against werewolves. Her name is Dorcas, she will know how to help you."

Lily was on her feet at his words, slugging some water from the canteen hanging from Caradoc's pack. "I'll be as quick as I can," she promised, then turned to Sirius and surprised him by pulling him into a tight hug. "It will be okay," she said softly. "I know it looks bad, but-"

"I'm fine, Lily," Sirius replied, drawing a bit of comfort from the hug. While Jackson lived, there was hope that they could find out what had happened in the camp… and if anyone else had escaped the fire.

Lily left quickly, heading off in the direction they had come. Sirius had a fleeting worry that she would get lost, but then the bonfire caught his eye, and Jackson groaned, and Sirius could think of nothing but the information he needed. He had to know one way or another.

"What happened?" Sirius asked him, kneeling down next to Caradoc.

"They came out of nowhere," the boy said weakly. "Remus's charms didn't work, Greyback had wizards with him. They, they weren't there to make us go back to Greyback. They cursed us, trapped us." Jackson closed his eyes again, and a tear slipped out, leaving a track in the grime on his face. "Remus fought, he held them off. Rhi was trying to get us to run, but Quinn wouldn't leave Remus. I don't remember much after that."

"That's okay," said Caradoc. His hands were still on the boy's shoulders, comforting him. "What about the fire?"

"The wizards did that," Jackson said with great effort, opening his eyes again and focusing on Caradoc above him. "Greyback, he didn't like it, told us we should come with him, make up for our betrayal. But the wizards turned on him, blocked him or something, because he couldn't come any closer. Remus did something, a big bang, then the pack got through and we were fighting again until someone hit me hard and I woke up here." More tears left his eyes as his voice wavered. "I could smell the fire, I heard one of the wizards say, ' _that's all of them._ '"

The phrase hit Sirius like a punch to the gut. It turned out that not knowing was better. The possibility that Remus had escaped seemed slim to the extreme now.

"I couldn't move," Jackson was saying, like he thought they would blame him. "I wanted to help, Rhi, Quinn, they're…." a dry sob escaped him as he whispered, "I have no one now."

"Hey," Caradoc said kindly, "you'll have the whole Order to look after you. You can probably even stay at our Headquarters for a while, sleep in a bed, eat properly."

Jackson nodded faintly at Caradoc's promise, but his eyes found Sirius and there was a dawning understanding in them. "You're Sirius aren't you?" he asked. "I'm sorry Remus was here. He cared about you so much, talked about you all the time, told us all sorts of crazy stories-"

Sirius couldn't bear it. Hearing Remus referred to in the past tense... it couldn't be true. It couldn't. The reality of it began to close in on Sirius, lapping at the edges of his mind, of his heart, then rising up and dousing him. That same freezing wave of debilitating fear, soaking him.

Destroying him.

He backed away, knowing he could not stay here a moment longer. The boy's fate was nothing compared to the violent horror he was feeling. Even Lily running alone for help didn't factor as he felt himself beginning to crack.

"Don't follow me," he choked out at a bewildered looking Caradoc, still crouched beside the injured boy. And then, with a great surge of uncontrollable magic, he felt his body morph. By instinct, he retreated to the simple mind of his animagus form.

Padfoot ran faster than Sirius ever could. Back down the mountain, through the trees. The rain, the air, it all smelled so different to Padfoot, but the lingering stench of burning flesh stayed with him, all the way to the druid's wall. Padfoot jumped it without breaking stride, out into the open field, the rain heavy once more, his paws hitting the wet ground in a constant four beat rhythm. Then, when he could no longer run, he collapsed, the long grass obscured his vision, hiding him from sight. The stillness, however, allowed Remus to intrude.

Remus who was gone.

Another forest flashed through his mind, one that he knew so well. His memory was so strong he could almost feel it; running so fast, undergrowth whipping his thick fur, the stag at his side, the rat riding high, clinging to those massive branched antlers with his little clawed toes. And Moony, that strange wolf, eager for the run, leaping logs and chasing hidden night creatures.

Padfoot whined, the sound lonely and desperate in the rainy field. He loved that wolf.

He couldn't stay there, the clouded sky was so low; he felt like it would suffocate him. _Home,_ he thought, _home where Remus had been_. That was all he could focus on, his bed that still smelled like Remus, stripy pajamas folded neatly under the pillow, a creased book on the nightstand.

Before he knew it, Sirius was human again. He turned on the spot, thinking only of his flat and how Remus would seem much closer there.

* * *

Sirius's breath continued to come in short useless gasps even after the usual constriction of apparition had lifted. The blank brick wall of the alley next to his flat blurred in and out of focus as he stretched out a hand to support himself. His head was spinning.

This couldn't be happening. Remus gone, lost, taken from him. That wasn't how it was supposed to go. They were in love.

He was everything.

The tears came then, finally, hot and stinging, streaming unchecked down his cheeks, splashing onto the dirty cobblestones at his feet. His breath, already restricted, wheezed into his chest, sharp and painful, a horrible reminder that he was still alive when Remus was not.

How long he stood there with his head bowed and chest heaving, tears pouring endless from his eyes, he didn't know, but when a sudden crack of apparition sounded behind him and he forced himself upright, his neck and shoulder were stiff due to the prolonged stillness.

"I told you not to follow me," he growled, thinking it would be Caradoc coming to check on him.

But a voice he was not expecting replied; a voice he was coming to associate with doom and panic. For his brother only seemed to appear in the most dire of situations. "Sirius?"

Sirius turned slowly, reaching for his wand as he faced his brother in the dark. "What the fuck do you want?" he snarled.

Regulus recoiled, holding his empty hands in the the air. He looked into Sirius's furious, tear-stained face, and his own breathing faulted. Shock and dread were clear in his expression.

"Is it true, then?" he asked in a tiny voice. "The raid, in the mountains. Remus was there?"

" _The raid,_ " Sirius spat, advancing on him, lifting his wand, trying to decide the best way to hurt him for being part of the side that took Remus away. " _Your_ lot, _your_ friends, they did this."

Regulus stood his ground, his hands still held high. "Is he... hurt?" he asked, hesitating on the last word.

"What do you care?!" Sirius roared, not caring that he could attract unwanted attention from the local muggles. He didn't even want to use his wand – he wanted to throttle his brother with his bare hands.

"It was me who sent the letter," Regulus said hastily. Perhaps he could sense how unhinged Sirius was, because he retreated a few steps. "I didn't know if he would be there, I wanted to make sure you'd be able to warn him."

So Sirius's suspicions had been correct. The shock was enough to temper the desire to murder his brother. He sent a strong stinging hex at him instead, and said coldly, "there wasn't enough time, we-" his voice broke, but he forced the words out; Regulus needed to know what his mates had done that night. "Remus is dead."

It was harder than he would have believed to say those three words. Those words that meant his world was torn apart. His chest felt like it was tearing apart itself as he spoke them. They caused him actual physical pain.

Regulus's shoulders began to shudder. He shook his head in denial. "No," he whispered, and Sirius could see his own pain, his own horror reflected in his brother's face. "I tried, Sirius." His voice was weak, tears pooling in his eyes. "I only found out this afternoon, Greyback got a tip off."

Something suddenly occurred to Sirius, something that seemed important even as his sanity was dissolving. Something that he needed an answer to. "Why did you think Remus would be there?"

Regulus sniffed wetly, wiping his hands over his red eyes, then spoke in a dead sort of monotone. "There were rumors during the winter about an educated werewolf causing trouble in the pack. Greyback – he attends meetings sometimes – he's... he's horrible. I knew they were talking about Remus. I knew it could only be him."

There it was, the thing that didn't make sense. "But, you know he's a werewolf?"

"Yes," Regulus nodded, "he and I, Sirius, we spent a lot of time together, er… as prefects, you know. I noticed the pattern, and Severus was always making these comments about him... I figured it out."

Sirius stared at his brother, thunderstruck. Regulus knew Remus was a werewolf and he still cared, obviously still thought of him as a friend? Had saved his life on the roof at Travers, sent risky warning notes to Sirius to try and keep him safe... what sort of Death Eater was he? Maybe Regulus was just better at fitting in than Sirius? The famous Slytherin self-preservation, spouting the family line to keep himself safe?

"He told me you were friends," Sirius said quietly, surprising himself with the gentle tone. "After that night, at Travers."

"Friends," Regulus repeated as if to himself, talking so softly Sirius had trouble making out the rest of the sentence. "That's definitely how it started." He raised his voice, and his eyes, to meet Sirius's once more. "Are you sure he's… gone?"

Sirius nodded, a fresh wave of grief breaking over him, and then Regulus moved so quickly Sirius didn't have time to lift his wand. But instead of attack, his brother crumpled against him, his face buried in Sirius's shoulder, his arms clutching around his back.

"I'm done," he mumbled into Sirius borrowed parka. "With the Dark Lord. I'm done."

* * *

 ** _**_** ~ **_End of Part Six_** ~ _ ******_

* * *

_Thanks for reading!_

_Please vote for Teenage Kicks in the Marauders Medals, hosted by The Shrieking Shack Society Facebook group._

_It's nominated for Best Canon, Best Pairing, Best Characterisation of Remus, and Best Characterisation of James (that last one surprised me too!)_


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